Cane,  P.ivisior:  -^^    .^    -I 


A  SEAECH  OF  TRUTH 


IN  THE 


i3(S]IISSI<SIS  ®W  ^HIS  mWMIA]^  Wi^Bi 


PART  FIRST. 


A  SEARCH  OF  TRUTH 


IN  THE 


g®aiK(BS  (m  ^iSiB  inisaiAsr  mmm^ 


PART  FIRST. 


BY  THE  JIEV.  FREDERICK  BEASLEY,  D.  D. 

PROVOST  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  PENNSYLVANIA,  MEMBER  OF  THE 
PHILOSOPHICAL  SOCIETY  OF  PHILADELPHIA,  AND  A  PRESBYTER  OF 
THE  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH. 


ZiiTtf  mv  x\7}!^stxv  y^'  ;)5  aS'eii  -jTuTrort  e^^ictjii!. — Marc.  Anton. 
Inter  silvas  Academi  quserere  ver\im.-^Horace. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

S.  POTTER  AND  CO.  NO.  87  CHESNUT  STREET. 
J.  MAXWELL,  PRINTER. 

1822. 


EASTERN  DISTRICT  OF  PENNSYLVANIA,  to  wit: 

BE  IT  Remfmbered,  that  on  the  18th  day  of  January,  in  the  forty- 
sixth  year  of  the  independence  of  the  United  States  of  \merica,  A.  D. 
18^2,  Frederick  Beasley,  D.  D.  of  the  said  district,  hath  deposited  in 
this  ofBce  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  author  in  the 
words  following,  to  wit: 

.5  Search  of  Truth  in  the  Sciewe  of  the  Human  Mind.     Part  first. 

By  the  Rev.  Frederick  Beasley,  D.  D.  Provost  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania, 
Member  of  the  Philosophical  Society  of  Philadelphia,  and  a  Presbyter  of  the  Epis- 
copal Church. 

ZHTce  Txv  ethx^tittv  wp'  »f  aht;  "TrooTTOTi  i0Ka.0H. — Marc.  ^nton. 
Inter  Silvas  ^cademi  qucerere  rerum. — Horace. 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  congress  of  the  United  States,  intituled 
"  An  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of 
maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  du- 
ring the  times  therein  mentioned."  And  also  to  the  act,  entitled,  "  An  act 
supplementary  to  an  act  entitled,  "  An  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learn- 
ing, by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts  and  books,  to  the  authors  and 
proprietors  of  such  copies  during  the  times  therein  mentioned,"  and  extend- 
ing the  benefits  thereof  io  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etching  his- 
torical and  other  prints." 

D.  CALDWELL, 
Clerk  of  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Dedication 
Introduction, 


BOOK  I. 


Chap.  1  The  two  gfreat  departments  of  science,  -  -  15 
Chap.  2  On  the  terms,  cause,  effect,  law  of  nature,  &c.  -  19 
Chap.  3  The  opinions  of  Philosophers  concerning  cause,  effect,  phe- 
nomenon, law  of  nature,  &c..  -  -  25 
Chap.  4  The  opinion  of  Mr.  Hume  on  cause  and  effect,  -  31 
Chap.  5  Opinions  of  other  authors  on  cause  and  effect,  -  47 
Chap.  6  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart  upon  cause  and  effect,  83 

BOOK  II. 

Chap.  1  What  is  meant  by  solving  a  phenomenon  in  nature,      -  113 

Chap.  2  Of  metaphysical  science,              -            -            -            -  115 

Chap.  3  Of  perception,               ,             -             .             -             -  123 
Dr.  Reid's  objections  to  the  theory  of  the  philosophers  an- 
swered; and  the  ideal  theory  proved  not  to  be  maintained 

by  them,           ------  142 

Mr.  Locke  vindicated  from  the  charge  of  maintaining  the 

ideal  theory,             -             -             -             -             -  143 

Chap.  4  The  opinions  of  Philosophers  about  perception    -            -  171 
The  opinions  of  Democritus,  Epicurus,  Plato,  Aristotle, 

Descartes,  Malebranche,  &c.           -            -            *  172 

Chap.  5  The  theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley,                -            -             -  203 


4  Table  of  Contents, 

Chap.  6  Mr.  Hume's  principles,  -  .  -  .  226 

Dr   Reid's  theory,  .  .  -  -  .  232 

Chap.  7  Primary  and  secondary-  qualities  of  body,  -  -  243 

Simple  ideas  derived  from  sensation  and  reflection,  -  248 

Chap.  8  Our  idea  of  duration,  ....  261 

Our  idea  of  substance  and  personal  identity,        -  -  280 

BOOK  III. 

Chap.  1  The  grounds  of  human  knowledge,                 -  -            289 

Chap.  2  The  evidence  of  exprrience.                     .             -  .       291 

Chap.  3  Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon,       -  -             309 

Chap.  4  Reasoning-  from  analogy,             _            .            .  -       325 

Chap.  5  Demonstrative  reasoning  and  intuitive  certainty,  -             331 

Chap.  6  First  Principles,  axioms,  and  maxims  of  science,  -       341 

Chap.  7  Testimony,  a  ground  of  human  knowledge,     -  -             359 

Chap.  8  Of  Miracles,        ..            -            -            -  -      363 

BOOK  IV. 

Chap.  1  Of  our  acquired  percep*(bns  and  the  metaphysicks  of  vision,  391 
Of  the  phenomena  exhibited  in  the  case  of  the  young  man 
couched  by  Cheselden,  -  -  -  -  392 

A  solution  of  the  question,  why  we  see  objects  erect  when 
the  image  formed  upon  the  tunica  retina  is  known  to  be 
inverted,  .--.--       396 

Chap.  2  The  same  subject  continued,  -  _  .  405 

A  solution  of  the  question,  do  we  originally  see  objects  sin- 
gle or  double  with  both  eyes?  Is  our  seeing  objects  single 
with  both  eyes  an  original  or  an  acquired  perception?         403 
Of  that  defect  of  vision  called  squinting;  and  the  opinion  of 
M.  De  La  Hire  and  M.  Jurin,         -  .  -  413 

Chap.  3  Of  deceptions  of  the  senses,         -  -  -  -      417 

Why  objects  sometimes  appear  larger  than  they  really  are, 
and  of  that  inversion  of  the  ordinary  laws  of  vision  called 
looming,  .....  420 

An  explanation  of  the  appearances  exhibited  by  the  moun- 
tain in  the  neighbourhood  of  Monticello,  mentioned  by 
Mr.  Jefferson,  in  his  notes  upon  Virginia,         -  -       421 

An  explanation  of  the  fact  of  the  increased  dimensions  of  the 
sun  and  moon  at  their  risini^  and  setting,  -  423 

Ghap.  4  Progress  of  the  mind  in  the  acquisition  of  its  ideas,  -      433 


Table  of  Contents.  S 

The  influence  of  the  mother's  imagination  upon  the  foetus  in 
the  womb  disputed,  ....  434 

The  singular  cases  mentioned  by  Malebranche  stated,  and  his 
theory  about  them  denied,         -  .  -  -       43S 

Chap.  5  The  progress  of  the  mind  in  the  acquisition  of  ideas  conti- 
nued, ......  439 

Chap.  6  The  question  discussed,  does  the  soul  always  think?  443 

Chap.  7  Of  dreaming,  .  -  -  .  .  457 

Chap.  8  Alienations  of  mind,  deliriums,  ecstacies,  madness,  &c.  465 

Of  spectral  visions  and  apparitions,  -  .  -      476 

Of  Saul  and  the  Witch  of  Endor,        ...  477 

The  visions  of  M.  Nicolai,  a  member  of  the  Royal  Society  of 

Berlin,  -  -  -  -  -  -       480 

A  solution  of  the  fact  that  the  sign  of  the  cross  was  display- 
ed to  Constantine,  the  Roman  Emperor,  before  his  battle 
with  Maxentius,  -  -  -  -  486 

Chap.  9  An  explanation  of  the  supposed  supernatural  vision  of  Colo- 
nel Gardiner,         -  -  .  -  .  439 
Chap.  10  Of  discernment,  judgment,  wit,  attention,  intension,  &c.     499 
The  great  importance  of  forming  habits  of  attention,  502 
The  errors  of  Professor  Stewart  on  the  subject  of  attention 
stated  and  refuted,            ....  504 

"Chap.  11  Of  memory,       --....      523 

Of  the  faults  and  excellencies  of  the  memory,  -  524 

Of  the  best  expedients  by  which  to  improve  the  memory,      527 
Of  the  local  memory  of  the  Ancients,  -  -       531 

Mr.  Locke's  doctrine  about  memory  defended  from  the  ob- 
jections of  Dr.  Reid,  .  -  _  _      535 
Chap.  12  Of  conception,         .            -            -            .            .  543 
What  is  implied  by  this  term.    It  has  no  peculiar  philoso- 
phical import,  distinct  from  what  is  expressed  by  the 
terms,  idea,  thought,  remembrance,  imagination,  &c.         544 
The  doctrine  of  Professor  Stewart,  that  in  conception  and 
imagination  we  have  a  momentary  belief  that  their  ob- 
jects exist  and  are  present  to  us,  explained  and  refuted,     547 
The  doctrine  asserted  that  even  in  tragic  representations 
the  deception  is  never  so  complete  as  to  lead  us  to  the  be- 
lief that  the  scenes  and  events  which  are  displayed  are 
real,               ......       553 

Strictures  upon  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Hume  in  his  last  mo- 
ments, as  represented  by  his  friend,  Dr.  Adam  Smith,        560 


DEDICATION 


TO  THE 


RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  HENRY  HOBART, 


BISHOP  OF  THE  PROTESTANT    EPISCOPAL  CHURCH  IN  THE  STATE 
OF  NEW  rORK. 


Right  Reverend  Sir, 

In  venturing  upon  so  important  an  undertaking,  as  the 
publication  of  a  work  upon  the  Science  of  the  Human  Mind, 
I  know  of  no  one  to  whose  patronage  and  protection,  I  could 
more  properly  recommend  it,  than  the  friend  of  my  youth, 
and  the  companion  of  my  early  studies.  From  you,  no  doubt, 
it  will  meet  with  as  favourable  a  reception  as  it  deserves,  its 
faults  which  are  many,  being  viewed  with  a  partial  eye,  and 
its  merits,  if  it  has  any,  being  justly  estimated.  In  this  vo- 
lume, allow  me  to  present  to  you,  as  the  best  offering  I  have 
to  make,  and  the  pledge  of  my  unabated  attachment,  the 
first  fruits  of  those  intellectual  toils,  which  we  commenced 
together  in  college.  Now,  that  we  have  arrived  at  full  ma- 
turity of  age,  delightful  is  the  recollection  of  those  days, 
when  we  indulged  ourselves  without  restraint,  in  the  "  calm 
pursuits  of  mild  philosophy,"  under  the  direction  of  our 
venerable  president  Smith,  whose  name  will  be  revered, 
while  science,  learning  and  eloquence,  shall  have  votaries  in 
our  country;  and  enjoying  the  society  of  Gaston,  Mercer, 
and  our  ever  lamented  KoUock,  equally  the  ornaments  of  the 
bar,  the  pulpit,  and  the  deliberative  councils  of  the  nation, 

A 


ii  Dedication. 

and  whom,  I  am  assured  you  join  me  in  proudly  recognising 
as  our  mutual  friends.  If  to  such  judges  as  yourself,  and 
those  who  are  still  living  of  the  persons  just  mentioned,  I 
shall  be  able  to  afford  in  the  perusal  of  this  performance,  any 
share  of  that  satisfaction  and  instruction,  which  I  have  de- 
rived from  its  execution,  as  well  as  from  those  preparatory 
investigations  which  led  to  it,  my  highest  ambition  will  be 
gratified. 

I  certainly  should  not  have  had  the  presumption,  to  ob- 
trude upon  the  public  a  work  of  such  magnitude,  and  upon 
a  topic  so  difficult  and  interesting,  if  I  had  not  conceived, 
that  I  had  something  new,  and  not  altogether  unimportant 
to  communicate.  Ycu  are  aware  that  in  the  College  of 
Princeton,  to  which  we  were  attached,  after  the  fanciful 
theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley,  as  a  kind  of  philosophical  day- 
dream, had  maintained  its  prevalence  for  a  season;  the  prin- 
ciples of  Reid,  and  the  Scottish  metaphysicians  superseded 
it,  and  during  the  period  of  our  residence  in  the  seminary, 
acquired  and  maintained  undisputed  sway.  At  that  time,  I, 
together  with  all  those  graduates  who  took  any  interest  in 
the  subject,  embraced  without  doubt  or  hesitation  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Scottish  school.  Smce,  however,  I  came  in 
possession  of  the  station,  which  1  at  present  occupy  in  the 
College  of  Philadelphia,  my  duty  as  well  as  inchnation,  led 
me  to  renew  my  inquiries  into  this  branch  of  science.  The 
farther  I  proceeded,  the  more  interesting  the  subject  became, 
and  I  determined,  if  possible,  to  compass  the  whole  ground, 
by  consulting  every  author  who  had  written  upon  it,  both  in 
ancient  and  modern  times.  I  had  advanced  but  a  short  dis- 
tance upon  this  extended  plan,  before  I  thought  I  perceived, 
that  the  Scottish  metaphysicians  had  either  inadvertently  or 
wilfully,  done  their  predecessors  very  great  injustice,  in 
their  animadversions  upon  their  writings,  ascribed  to  them 
opinions  which  they  never  held,  assumed  to  themselves  the 
merit  of  broaching  and  promulgmg  the  very  doctrines  which 


Dedication.  iii 

they  taught,  and,  at  the  same  time,  had  fallen  into  the  gross- 
est errors  in  that  new  system  of  pneumatology,  which  they 
claimed  the  credit  of  introducing-  Dr.  Reid,  who  is,  un- 
doubtedly, the  best  writer  upon  these  topics  that  Scotland 
has  produced,  discovering  at  times,  considerable  clearness 
of  understanding,  and  neatness  and  perspicuity  of  style,  ac- 
knowledges, "  that  he  never  thought  of  calling  in  question, 
the  principles  commonly  received  with  regard  to  the  human 
understanding,  until  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature  (Mr. 
Hume's,)  was  published.  The  ingenious  author  of  that  trea- 
tise," says  he,  "  upon  the  principles  of  Locke,  who  was  no 
sceptic,  has  built  a  system  of  scepticism,  which  leaves  no 
ground  to  believe  any  one  thing,  rather  than  its  contrary. 
His  reasoning  appeared  to  me  to  be  just;  there  was,  there- 
fore, a  necessity  to  call  in  question  the  principles,  upon 
which  it  was  founded,  or  to  admit  the  conclusion."* 

How  far  the  Dr.  is  correct  in  asserting,  that  Mr.  Hume 
built  his  system  of  scepticism  upon  the  principles  of  Mr. 
Locke,  and  that  we  must  either  call  in  question  those  prin- 
ciples, or  admit  his  conclusion,  it  becomes  my  province  to  de- 
termine during  the  course  of  this  inquiry.  At  present,  I  would 
barely  crave  leave  to  remark,  that  in  my  view  of  the  subject, 
it  was  at  this  very  point  in  which  Dr.  Reid  commenced,  that 
we  find  his  capital  mistake — that  mistake  which  led  to  many 
of  his  subsequent  errors  and  failures.  He  saw  the  absurd 
and  preposterous  conclusions  of  Mr.  Hume,  and  that,  with 
an  air  of  confidence  and  self-complacency  so  peculiar  to  him, 
heprofessedto  ground  them  upon  the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke; 
but  he  did  not  take  sufficient  pains  to  ascertain,  whether  or 
not,  those  were  the  genuine  doctrines  of  Locke.  He  evi- 
dently allowed  the  absurdities  of  Mr.  Hume's  system  to  in- 
fect his  mind,  with  the  taint  of  a  fatal  prejudice,  against  the 
doctrines  of  all  preceding  philosophers,  who  had  written  upon 

*  See  Dedication  to  Reid  upon  the  Mind. 


iv  Dedication. 

this  subject,  before  he  subjected  himself  to  the  toil  of  fairly 
determining,  whether  such  opinions  were  justly  attributed  to 
them.  His  mind,  as  I  conceive,  commenced  its  inquiries  at 
the  wrong  point,  and  under  the  influence  of  prepossessions 
greatly  calculated  to  mislead  it.  Hence  the  too  easy  credu- 
lity, with  which  the  Dr.  embraced  the  opinion,  that  all  the 
philosophers  agreed  in  receiving  the  ideal  theory,  which  is 
the  groundwork  of  his  system,  and  which,  resting  upon  so 
sandy  a  foundation  the  whole  superstructure,  must  soon  go 
to  ruin.  He  contemplated  the  theories  of  all  preceding  phi- 
losophers, through  the  discoloured  medium  of  Mr.  Hume's 
sceptical  conclusions;  and  he  might  as  well  have  expected  to 
determine  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  through  the  medium 
of  that  writer's  sceptical  doubts  about  religion.  I  trust,  I 
shall  be  able  to  show  to  your  entire  satisfaction,  and  that  of 
the  learned  world,  that,  instead  of  scepticism  being  inlaid  in 
the  old  theory,  as  the  Dr.  affirms,  there  is  no  kind  of  con- 
nection, between  the  premises  of  Mr.  Hume  or  Berkeley, 
and  the  principles  of  Mr.  I.ocke.  And,  should  I  be  so  for- 
tunate as  to  succeed  in  accomplishing  this  task,  I  doubt  not 
you  will  perceive,  not  only  will  Mr.  Locke  and  other  philo- 
sophers, be  restored  to  those  well-merited  honours,  from 
which,  for  a  time,  at  least,  they  have  been  degraded;  but  no 
inconsiderable  service  will  have  been  rendered  also,  to  the 
interesting  science  of  human  nature.  No  small  part  of  that 
task,  which  we  have  to  perform  in  the  cultivation  of  science, 
consists  in  the  detection  and  exposure  of  errors;  and  the 
very  first  step,  which  we  make  in  our  attempts  to  advance 
still  farther  towards  perfecting  any  of  the  branches  of  phi- 
losophy, is  to  ascertain  with  precision  and  accuracy,  the  li- 
mits to  which  it  has  been  already  extended,  and  nicely  to 
mark,  in  all  cases,  the  lines  of  separation  between  what  is 
true  and  false  in  the  received  doctrines  about  it;  or  in  other 
words,  determine  whether  philosophers  have  succeeded  or 
failed,  in  their  attempts  to  furnish  solutions  of  the  variou?; 


Dedication.  .  v 

phenomena  of  nature.  This  is  a  preliminary  step,  indispen- 
sable to  the  future  progress  of  any  branch  of  learning.  How 
far  I  have  succeeded  in  accomplishing  this  task  in  the  pre- 
sent work,  and  what  degree  of  credit  is  due  to  those  views 
of  the  several  topics  discussed,  which  may  be  considered  as 
new  and  original,  must  be  left  to  you  and  other  able  judges 
to  decide.  One  merit  in  the  performance,  I  think  I  may 
claim  with  confidence  and  without  presumption,  and  that  is, 
that  throughout  all  my  inquiries,  I  have  sought  with  the 
greatest  impartiality  and  solicitude,  to  obtain  access  to  the 
truth,  and  assign  to  each  author  his  due  proportion  of  merit 
in  its  discovery. 

This  performance  has  naturally  and  unavoidably  assumed, 
under  my  hand,  much  more  of  a  polemical  cast,  especially 
in  the  commencement,  than  I  could  have  desiredj  but  for 
this,  those  are  responsible  who  have  undertaken  to  call  in 
question,  and  subject  to  the  hazard  of  doubtful  disputation, 
doctrines  which,  previously  to  their  times,  had  been  consi- 
dered by  all  learned  and  scientific  men,  as  established  in  the 
science  of  the  human  mind.  It  is  they  who  have  essayed  to 
subvert  old  foundations,  and  have  opened  the  fountains  of 
controversy  upon  this  subject,  and  if  the  streams  of  bitter- 
ness should  flow,  they  have  nothing  to  accuse  but  their  own 
imprudence  and  temerity.  If  in  some  instances,  it  shall  be 
thought  by  the  abettors  of  the  system  recently  broached  in 
metaphysics,  that  I  have  treated  with  undue  severity,  the 
Scottish  writers  upon  this  subject,  let  the  provocation  which 
they  have  given  to  the  votaries  of  this  science  be  my  apolo- 
gy. Those  who  have  undertaken  to  decry  the  discoveries  of 
their  predejcessors,  can  have  no  just  cause  of  complaint,  if 
they  shall  find  their  own  claims,  zealously,  and  even  sharply 
contested.  In  the  Republic  of  Letters,  where  the  only  domi- 
nion which  prevails,  is  that  of  reason  and  argument,  a  per- 
fect freedom  of  thinking  is  allowed;  and  under  the  exercise 
of  this  undisputed  right^  error  can  calculate  upon  nothing 


vi  Dedication* 

but  complete  detection  and  exposure,  sophistry  only  upon 
having  the  veil  of  its  fallacies  removed,  while  ignorance  and 
imbecility,  can  expect  no  quarter  from  the  overpowering  in- 
fluence of  ridicule  and  contempt. 

There  is  scarcely  a  fundamental  doctrine  in  the  whole 
system  of  Locke,  which  Dr.  Reid  has  not  endeavoured  to 
unsettle;  and  in  fact,  if  his  representation  of  the  philosophy 
of  Locke  be  true,  the  Treatise  upon  Human  LTnderstanding, 
should  be  laid  upon  the  shelf  of  the  student,  as  useless,  and 
fitted  only  to  engage  the  attention  of  those  who  are  curious 
to  become  acquainted  with  the  visionary  schemes  of  inge- 
nious men,  and  his  whole  system  considered  as  completely 
superseded,  as  is  that  of  Aristotle  in  Natural  Science.  Now 
to  those  who  believe,  that  this  representation  of  the  case  is 
altogether  unfounded,  and  that  the  theory  of  Mr.  Locke, 
never  has  been,  and  never  can  be  overturned,  but  that,  in  all 
fundamental  points,  it  will  remain  entire,  as  long  as  the  hu- 
man mind  shall  retain  its  present  properties,  be  governed  by 
the  same  laws,  and  exhibit  the  same  phenomena;  surely  some 
freedom  of  animadversion  should  be  indulged,  in  reference 
to  the  opinions  of  those,  who  have  thus  endeavoured  to  sub- 
vert it.  The  sentiments  of  Bishop  Warburton,  in  regard  to 
Locke's  system,  we  may  rest  assured,  will  at  last  prevail. 
"  But  the  sage  Locke,"  says  he,  "  in  a  letter  to  Bishop  Hurd, 
supported  himself  by  no  system,  on  the  one  hand;  nor,  on 
the  other,  did  he  dishonour  himself  by  any  whimsies.  The 
consequence  of  which  was,  that,  neither  following  the  fash- 
ion, nor  striking  the  imagination,  he,  at  first,  had  neither 
followers  nor  admirers;  but  being  every  where  clear,  and 
every  where  solid,  he,  at  length,  worked  his  way,  and  after- 
wards was  subject  to  no  reverses.  He  was  not  affected  by 
the  new  fashions  in  philosophy,  who  leaned  upon  none  of 
the  old;  nor  did  he  afford  ground  for  the  after  attacks  of 
envy  and  folly,  by  any  fanciful  hypotheses,  which,  when 
grown  stale,  are  the  most  nauseous  of  all  things."  To  sustain 


Dedication.    .  vii 

this  view  of  Locke's  philosophy,  is  one  of  the  purposes  at- 
tempted to  be  accomphshed  in  the  following  work.  We  so- 
licit only  a  candid  and  unbiassed  hearing,  and  have  no  wish 
but  that  reason  and  argument  should  ultimately  triumph. 

Those  portions  of  the  work  in  which,  while  treating  of  the 
grounds  of  human  knowledge,  1  have  been  led  incidentally 
to  discuss  the  evidences  of  the  Christian  religion,  I  hope 
will  meet  with  your  approbation.  In  reference  to  the  sub- 
ject of  miracles,  more  particularly,  I  have  endeavoured  to 
show,  that  those  which  are  recorded  in  sacred  scripture,  are 
not  only  credible  upon  the  ordinary  authority  of  history,  but 
also  defensible  from  all  those  objections,  which  have  been 
alleged  against  them,  upon  the  strictest  principles  of  philo- 
sophical investigation;  and  that  our  holy  faith,  in  this  in- 
stance, as  in  all  others,  instead  of  being  resolvable  into  a 
blind  credulity,  as  its  enemies  pretend,  or  reposing  itself 
upon  "  cunningly  devised  fables,"  rests  upon  the  solid  foun- 
dations of  right  reason,  and  the  irrefragable  conclusions  of  a 
sound  philosophy. 

But  it  is  unnecessary,  that  I  should  intrude  upon  your 
time  and  attention,  by  a  long  prefatory  disquisition.  Those 
talents  which  you  have  discovered  at  every  period  of  life, 
and  which  have,  at  length,  elevated  you  to  that  exalted  sta- 
tion which  you  now  hold,  with  so  much  advantage  to  the 
church,  and  honour  to  your  country;  will  enable  you,  with- 
out any  aid  from  me,  justly  to  decide  upon  the  merits  of  that 
production,  which  is  now,  not  without  sentiments  of  undis- 
sembled  diffidence  and  solicitude,  I  assure  you,  presented  to 
the  public. 

In  concluding  this  brief  address,  I  trust  I  shall  be  allowed, 
without  subjecting  myself  to  the  censure  of  making  an  at- 
tempt at  adulation,  to  express  my  decided  admiration  of 
those  exalted  qualities,  both  of  the  understanding  and  the 
heart,  which  have  given  you  so  distinguished  a  rank  among 
your  fellow  citizens.     Almost  all  mankind,  are  sensible  of 


viii  Dedication. 

that  quick  intuition,  powerful  reason,  and  commanding  elo- 
quence, the  force  of  which  they  daily  experience,  while  wit- 
nessing the  discharge  of  your  public  duties;  but  to  those  on- 
ly who  are  intimately  acquainted  with  your  person,  and  en- 
joy the  happiness  of  being  the  companions  of  your  private 
hours,  is  reserved  the  privilege  of  witnessing  the  display 
of  those  amiable  virtues,  and  engaging  qualities,  which  shed 
a  benign  influence  over  your  domestic  state,  as  well  as  through 
a  numerous  circle  of  friends,  and  which  need  only  be  gene- 
rally known  to  attract  to  you,  the  confidence,  esteem,  and 
affections  of  all. 

With  the  highest  respect  and  inviolable  attachment, 

Believe  me,  Rt.  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir, 

Your  devoted  friend, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Est  animoruDa,  iugeniorutuque  nostrorum  naturale  quoddam  quasi  pabulum,  con- 
sideratio,  coutetnplatioque  naturae. 

Cicero. 

It  is  somewhere  remarked  by  an  intelligent  writer,  that  he 
thinks  the  present  condition  in  which  man  is  placed  in  this 
world,  where  perpetual  toil  and  attention  are  necessary  to  the 
search  and  discovery  of  truth,  is  preferable  to  one  in  which 
all  truth  should  be  disclosed  to  his  understanding  by  intui- 
tive perception.  One  of  the  purest  and  most  exalted  enjoy- 
ments ^of  which  the  human  mind  is  susceptible,  is  that  which 
it  experiences  in  the  pursuit  and  acquisition  of  knowledge; 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  according  to  the  usual  wis- 
dom discoverable  in  the  works  of  the  Creator,  who  annexes 
a  pleasure  to  every  virtuous  exertion  of  the  human  powers, 
there  is  a  high  degree  of  satisfaction  derived  from  every  ef- 
fort of  the  understanding  in  quest  of  science.  Truth  is  to 
the  mind  of  man  what  light  is  to  the  eye,  while  ignorance 
and  error  are  like   darkness   to   that  sense.     And  as  in  the 

B 


10  Introduction, 

case  of  the  outward  organ,  there  is  such  an  admirable  con-^ 
trivance  for  refracting  and  transmitting  the  rays  of  that  sin- 
gular fluid,  in  order  to  render  visible  an  exterior  world;  so 
also  in  the  mind,  there  would  appear  to  be  constituted  no 
less  wonderful  organs,  to  fit  it  for  the  perception  of  what  might 
justly  be  denominated,  in  the  language  of  the  Peripatetick 
philosophy,  the  intelligible  world.  There  is  such  a  conge- 
niality between  truth  and  the  human  mind,  such  a  nice  and 
exquisite  adaptation  of  the  intellectual  powers  to  the  recep- 
tion of  this  moral  light,  that  it  cannot  fail  to  be  remarked 
even  by  the  most  superficial  observers,  whenever  we  are  pe- 
rusing the  works  of  a  good  author,  all  the  thoughts  which 
seem  spontaneously  to  arise  out  of  the  subject  he  is  treating 
of,  appear  onl)'  to  reflect  back  upon  us  the  image  of  our  own 
ideas.  This  is  the  only  circumstance  which  gives  any  colour 
of  probability  in  fact  and  experience  to  the  opinion  of  Plato, 
to  which  allusion  is  so  frequently  made,  that  all  knowledge 
is  reminiscence,  or  simply  the  recollection  of  w^hat  was  pre- 
viously known.  This  phenomenon,  however,  is  readily  ex- 
plained, without  a  recurrence  to  that  fanciful  doctrine, by  ad- 
mitting what  is  known  to  be  the  fact,  that  in  the  original  con- 
formation of  the  mind,  there  is  a  wise  correspondence  or  con- 
formity in  its  powers  to  those  truths,  which  it  is  its  province 
to  investigate,  a  correspondence  or  conformity  analogous  to 
that  which  subsists  between  the  organs  of  sense  and  the  ob- 
jects which  excite  them  into  action. 

But  while  v/e  do  not  hesitate  to  admit  the  justness  and 
force  of  the  observation,  made  by  the  writer  beforemention- 
ed,  that  there  is  a  high  degree  of  pleasure  to  be  derived  from 
that  intellectual  toil  necessary  to  the  prosecution  and  success- 
ful issue  of  our  inquiries  into  nature,  and  cheerfully  ac- 
quiesce, moreover,  in  the  disposal  of  infinite  wisdom,  which 
allots  It  as  our  portion  to  become  humble  labourers  in  the 
vast  mines  of  science,  and  to  pay  the  sweat  of  our  brow,  as 


Introduction^  1 1 

a  tribute  for  every  morsel  of  ore  which  we  extract  from 
them;  the  reflection  cannot  but  frequently  obtrude  itself  upon 
the  contemplative,  mind,  how  great  would  be  the  privilege, 
and  how  sublime  the  enjoyment,  to  have  the  whole  system 
of  nature,  that  "  wondrous  frame  of  things,"  ordained  by  the 
Great  Contriver,  with  its  magnificent  apparatus  of  materials, 
its  vast  and  curious  machinery,  its  matchless  combinations 
and  contrivances,  and  the  diversified  laws  of  its  action  un- 
folded to  us.  If  that  scanty  pittance  of  knowledge  which  we 
are  at  present  able  to  attain  by  the  judicious  exercise  of  our 
limited  faculties,  affords  us  so  much  rational  and  refined  sa- 
tisfaction; great,  beyond  all  human  conception,  would  be  our 
gratification,  were  we  able  to  solve  all  the  phenomena,  both 
of  the  physical  and  moral  world,  to  trace  the  mighty  chain  of 
causes  and  effects  throughout  its  whole  extent,  to  explore 
those  fields  of  nature  which  lie  within  the  limits  of  human 
understanding,  and  even  those  which  extend  beyond  them, 
and  which  the  feet  even  of  Newton,  Locke,  and  the  most  il- 
lustrious philosophers,  both  of  ancient  and  modern  times, 
neve^  dared  to  tread.  It  was  a  noble  saying  of  Democritus, 
recorded  by  Eusebius,  that  he  would  rather  discover  one 
true  cause  of  things,  than  be  master  of  the  Persian  empire. 
This  sentiment  was  uttered  in  the  genuine  spirit  of  philoso- 
phy. If  the  man  whose  inclinations  are  but  in  a  slight  de- 
gree turned  to  the  pursuits  of  science,  has  only  to  walk  abroad 
into  nature,  and  contemplate  for  a  moment  that  variegated 
scene  of  magnificence  and  beauty  which  she  holds  forth  to 
view,  in  order  to  awake  within  him  the  most  agreeable  emo- 
tions of  complacency  and  satisfaction,  into  what  a  transport 
of  delight  and  astonishment  would  he  be  thrown,  were  he 
capable  of  comprehending  the  structure  and  operations  of  the 
whole  system!  On  whatever  side  we  direct  our  view,  won- 
ders upon  wonders  rise,  which  our  straining  faculties  in  vain 
essay  to  resolve.  In  attempting  to  penetrate  into  the  mys- 
teries of  nature,  our  reason  soon  finds  herself  entangU  d  in 


12  Introduction, 

inextricable  labyrinths.  To  bt-gin  with  the  simplest  and 
most  familiar  instances — what  are  the  natures  and  whence 
the  active  energies  of  the  four  great  elements,  earth,  air,  fire 
and  water,  by  the  multiform  combinations  and  diversified 
operations  of  which  all  those  bodies  are  evolved,  and  those 
revolutions  performed  that  compose  the  Universe?  What  is 
the  origin  and  nature  of  light,  that  curious  and  admirable 
fluid  which  pervades  the  hemisphere,  and  without  whose 
cheering  influence  the  earth  would  be  a  scene  of  dreariness 
and  desolation?  What  is  the  nature  of  that  substance  which 
occupies  the  space  between  our  atmosphere  and  the  sun,  for 
substance  there  must  be  some,  whether  it  be  that  of  light, 
emanating  from  that  luminary,  or  a  medium  interposed  be- 
tween it  and  our  planet,  through  means  of  which  the  one 
body  is  able  to  operate  upon  the  other?  What  is  the  sun 
himself,  that  wonderful  object  of  contemplation  and  by  what 
secret  means  is  he  furnished  with  such  an  incxhaustilile  sup- 
ply of  light?  By  what  hidden  process  could  the  universe 
have  been  formed,  in  ascertainmg  which  the  geniuses  of 
Thales,  Democritus,  Plato,  Leibnitz,  and  Des  Cartes,  toge- 
ther with  a  host  of  philosophers  both  of  ancient  and  modern 
times,  have  only  indulged  themselves  in  vain  conjectures  and 
unsatisfactory  hypotheses?  What  is  the  occult  cause  of  that 
great  principle  of  attraction  which  binds  the  heavenly  bodies 
to  their  spheres,  and  upon  which  their  revolutions  depend, 
but  with  the  "results  and  laws  of  which  only  did  Newton 
profess  to  be  acquainted?  Comitig  down  to  our  own  globe, 
we  find  our  understandings  posed  by  mysteries  no  less  inso- 
lul)le,  in  the  wondertui  process  by  which  dead  is  converted 
into  living  matter,  and  in  what  the  principle  of  life  itself 
consists,  in  the  inscrutable  structure  of  our  own  minds,  the 
mysterious  ties  by  which  they  are  connected  to  our  bodies, 
the  mode  of  their  reciprocal  action  upon  each  other,  the  in- 
comprehensible manner  in  which  feeling,  perception,  thought 


Introduction.       '  IS 

and  voluntary  motion  are  accomplished.  These  and  many 
other  principles  and  operations  of  body  and  mind,  are  among 
the  unsearchable  arcana  of  nature,  and  great  and  sublime  as 
v/ould  be  our  enjoyment  did  infinite  wisdom  think  proper  to 
unfold  them  to  us,  are,  for  the  present,  refused  to  our  most 
eager  curiosity,  and  perhaps  the  disclosure  of  them  may  be 
reserved  to  enhance  and  invigorate  our  happiness  in  a  more 
exalted  state  of  being.  Let  us  not,  however,  from  consider- 
ing the  limited  nature  of  our  faculties  and  the  scantiness  and 
imperfection  of  that  knowledge  which,  with  our  best  exer- 
tions, we  are  able  to  attain,  be  discouraged  in  pushing  on,  to 
the  utmost  extent  of  our  time  and  opportunities,  our  philo- 
sophical investigations.  The  triumphs  which  philosophy  has 
obtained,  and  the  conquests  she  has  made  in  the  dominions  of 
nature,  are  numerous  and  important,  and  have  contributed  to 
improve  and  exalt  our  species.  What  new  worlds  have  New- 
ton, Locke,  and  other  illustrious  adventurers  upon  the  great 
deep  of  science,  laid  open  to  our  view,  in  which  our  spirits, 
ranging  at  large,  are  at  once  supplied  with  an  inexhaustible 
store  of  intellectual  wealth,  taught  to  expand  with  sublime 
conceptions,  and  catch  the  sentiments  of  greatness  from  the 
grandeur  of  the  objects  that  surround  them.  For  my  part,  I 
regard  the  philosopher,  toiling  in  quest  of  knowledge,  pur- 
suing his  peaceful  conquests  into  the  departments  of  nature, 
and  returning  from  his  adventures,  laden  with  the  spoils  and 
graced  with  the  trophies  of  new  discoveries,  with  which  to 
enrich  and  adorn  the  treasury  of  science,  as  entitled  to  the 
highest  honours  which  his  fellow-men  can  bestow,  and  among 
the  greatest  benefactors  of  his  race.  He  extends  the  views, 
enlarges  the  powers,  elevates  the  character,  refines  the  moral 
feelings,  and  multiplies  the  rational  enjoyments  of  his  species, 
gives  new  value  to  their  existence  and  dignity  to  their  na- 
ture. His  name  should  be  venerated  when  living,  and  when 
dead  the  noblest  monuments  should  perpetuate  his  memory. 


14  Introduction. 

How  much  more  highly  is  he  deserving  of  esteem  and  im- 
mortality, than  the  conqueror  who  erects  a  vain  renown  upon 
the  desolation  of  countries  and  the  destruction  of  his  fellow- 
men,  and  the  monuments  of  whose  glory  are  steeped  in  tears 
of  the  widow  and  the  orphan-  and  besmeared  with  the  blood 
©f  human  victims! 


BOOK  I— CHAPTER  I. 

Of  the  two  great  departments  of  Science. 

Philosophy,  taken  in  the  widest  extent  of  the  term,  is  na- 
turally divided  into  two  great  departments.  The  first,  em- 
braces all  the  inquiries  of  the  human  understanding  in  refer- 
ence to  matter,  its  properties  and  operations,  and  is  denomi- 
nated physical  science;  the  second  is  a  like  investigation  re- 
lative to  mind,  and  has  received  the  appellation  of  moral 
philosophy,  or,  perhaps,  the  still  more  appropriate  title  of 
the  science  of  the  human  mind.  Matter  and  mind,  there- 
fore, present  the  two  great  dominions  which  nature  opens  to 
GUI'  view,  and  which  it  is  the  province  of  philosophy  to  ex- 
plore and  cultivate.  These  are  the  only  substances,  with 
which  the  powers  furnished  us  by  the  Creator,  enable  us  to 
converse.  Whether  there  may  not  be  an  intermediate  sub- 
stance, or  intermediate  substances,  between  matter  and  mind, 
partaking  of  the  properties  of  neither  the  one  nor  the  other, 
it  is  impossible  for  us  to  determine,  and  would  be  useless  to 
inquire.  That  there  are  various  grades  of  intelligent  beings 
throughout  the  universe,  some  of  whom  as  greatly  surpass 
the  human  race,  in  the  powers  with  which  they  are  endow- 
ed, as  the  human  race  does  the  lowest  species  of  animals 
possessed  of  sagacity,  would,  independently  of  revelation, 
seem  in  a  high  degree  presumable  from  the  analogy  of  nature. 
When  we  reflect  upon  the  numberless  links  in  the  chain  of 
animated  nature,  commencing  from  man,  and  terminating  in 
the  most  insignificant  creature  possessed  of  life,  sense,  and 
spontaneous  motion,  it  seems  extremely  improbable,  that 
there  are  no  grades  of  intelligent  beings  to  fill  up  the  im- 
mense chasm  between  the  limited  and  finite  mind  of  man, 
and  the  infinite  mind  of  the  creator.  We  should  in  vain, 
however,  exhaust  the  strength  of  our  understandings  in  dis- 


16  Departments  of  Science. 

quisitions  of  this  nature.  Although  it  might  be  gratifying 
to  a  laudable  curiosity,  to  attain  to  knowledge  and  certainty 
in  such  matters,  yet,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  they  are  with- 
out the  legitimate  province  of  philosophy,  and  guarded  by 
impassible  barriers  against  the  approach  and  examination  of 
the  human  faculties.  Body  and  spirit,  the  material  and  im- 
material principle,  are  the  two  substances  with  which  we  are 
perpetually  conversant,  and  to  enlarge  and  extend  our  ac- 
quaintance with  which,  is  the  great  object  of  philosophical 
investigation  and  research.  But  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that 
our  acquaintance,  even  with  these  objects  that  have  become 
so  very  familiar  to  us,  is  not  without  its  limits.  It  is  evi- 
dent we  are  furnished  with  no  powers,  that  enable  us  to  dis- 
cern the  inward  structure  and  constitution  of  matter  or  mind, 
and  that  all  our  information  concerning  them,  must  be  con- 
fined to  the  knowledge  we  can  obtain  of  their  properties  and 
operations.  "  What  the  real  substance  of  any  thing  is,  says 
Newton,*  we  know  not.  In  bodies  we  see  only  their  figures 
and  colours,  we  hear  only  the  sounds,  we  touch  only  their 
outward  surfaces,  we  smell  only  the  smells  and  taste  the  sa- 
vours, but  their  inward  substances  are  not  to  be  known  either 
by  our  senses  or  by  any  reflex  act  of  our  minds."  As,  then, 
it  is  an  admitted  maxim  in  philosophy,  that  we  are  endowed 
with  no  faculties  that  enable  us  to  penetrate  into  the  hidden 
essences  of  things,  and  from  a  knowledge  of  those  essences 
to  determine  a  priori,  the  results  of  their  future  actions  upon 
each  other,  all  our  acquaintance  with  the  qualities  and  ope- 
rations both  of  body  and  mind  must  depend  solely  upon  ex- 
perience. Considering  this  circumstance,  it  seems  astonish- 
ing that  the  method  of  inquiry  proposed  by  lord  Bacon  and 
denominated  his  plan  of  induction,  when  we  reflect  that  its 
necessity  and  use  are  so  obvious  and  important  to  mankind, 
not  only  as  a  vehicle  for  the  advancement  of  science,  but  as 

*  General  scliolium.  book  3. 


Departments  of  Science.  17 

an  indispensable  instrument  for  the  daily  and  ordinary  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge,  should  have  been  so  long  unknown 
to  the  philosophic  world.  This  method  of  induction  teaches 
the  inquirer  into  nature,  instead  of  indulging  the  pride  of 
wisdom,  and  dogmatically  pronouncing  his  decrees  and  per- 
verting her  judgments  to  suit  his  own  hypothesis,  to  become 
the  humble  pupil  of  nature,  be  instructed  in  her  school,  and 
contented  with  performing  the  part  of  a  modest  and  faithful 
interpreter  of  her  signs;  it  subjects  the  investigator  of  truth  to 
so  severe  a  mental  discipline,  that  he  is  required  to  discard 
all  theories  not  substantiated  by  ample  observation  and  ex- 
perience, and  not  attempt  to  establish  general  principles  of 
science,  until  he  has  ascended  to  them  through  a  just  gra- 
dation, and  from  a  complete  and  ample  collection  of  facts. 
It  is  at  once  the  vehicle  by  which  we  attain  to  those  simple 
lessons  of  practical  wisdom,  which  are  necessary  to  our  safe- 
ty and  well  being,  and  the  most  sublime  discoveries  of  science. 
As  it  naturally  falls  in  with  our  plan,  however,  to  treat  of 
this  method  of  inquiry  during  the  progress  of  these  disserta- 
tions, we  dismiss  the  subject  for  the  present,  and  proceed, 
without  further  delay,  to  explain  the  nature,  object  and  uses 
of  the  science  of  the  human  mind. 

The  object  of  pneumatology,  or  the  science  of  the  human 
mind,  is  to  trace  the  progress  of  the  understanding  in  the  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge,  to  pursue  it  from  its  earliest  be- 
ginnings in  those  simple  perceptions  to  which  it  attains  by 
means  of  the  external  senses  and  reflex  acts  of  its  own,  to  its 
most  complex  and  sublime  combinations  and  conclusions.  It 
ascertains  the  constituent  principles  of  the  mind,  solves  all 
the  phenomena  exhibited  by  it,  penetrates  to  the  deep  foun- 
dations of  truth  and  certainty,  weighs,  in  the  scales  of  right 
reason,  the  different  degrees  of  evidence  upon  which  our  as- 
sent is  grounded,  shows  in  what  cases  absolute  demonstra- 
tion may  be  attained,  and  when  we  should  rest  contented 
with  moral  certainty,  or  even  strong  probability^,  and,  finally, 


18  Departments  oj  Science. 

..detects  the  errors  to  which  we  are  liable,  unfolds  the  latent 
sources  of  them,  and  points  out  the  true  roads  that  lead,  in 
the  various  departments  of  science,  to  that  kind  of  evidence 
and  certainty,  to  which,  from  the  limited  nature  of  our  fa- 
culties, we  should  yield  an  entire  assent.  Certainly  no  sci- 
ence could  be  more  important,  not  only  as  it  constitutes  in 
itself  a  most  interesting  branch,  but  as  in  it  are  laid  the  foun- 
dations of  every  other;  by  its  principles  their  certainty,  per- 
manence and  usefulness  are  tested,  and  the  best  methods  dis- 
closed by  which  they  may  be  advanced  on  the  way  towards 
improvement  and  perfection. 


CHAPTER  II. 

On  the  terms,  cause,  phenomenon,  law  of  nature,  ^c. 

Nihil  fieri  sine  causa  potest.     Itaque  uon  sic  causa  intelligi  debet,  ut  quod  cuiqne 
antecedat,  id  ei  causa  sit,  sed  quod  cuique  efficienter  antecedat. 

Cicero  de  fato. 

We  shall  endeavour  to  lay  more  securely  the  foundation 
of  our  future  structure,  in  a  brief  attempt  to  ascertain  our 
ideas  and  give  precise  definitions  of  our  terms.  The  terms 
enumerated  above  are  sufficiently  precise,  and  convey  very 
clear  and  distinct  ideas,  and  any  further  explanation  of  them 
would  have  been  unnecessary,  had  they  not  been  rendered 
confused  and  uncertain  in  their  signification  by  some  late  dis- 
quisitions about  them.  Aristotle  divides  causes  into  four 
kinds,  the  material,  the  formal,  the  efficient,  and  the  final.  The 
material,  denoted  the  substance  or  matter  out  of  which  things 
were  formed;  the  formal  implied  that  inward  structure  or 
form,  from  which  proceed  the  outward  figure  and  diversified 
appearances  of  objects;  the  efficient  cause,  was  the  principle 
or  agent  of  motion  and  change,  and  the  final,  was  the  end  or 
purpose  which  any  thing  is  intended  to  serve.  The  distinc- 
tions of  material  and  formal  causes  have  justly  been  allowed 
to  fall  into  disuse,  since  the  decline  of  the  Peripatetick  philo- 
sophy. Efficient  causes  alone  comprehend  all  that  can  pro- 
perly be  denominated  such  in  the  technical  and  philosophical 
meaning  of  the  word.  The  distinction  of  final  causes,  also, 
is  retained  in  the  schools,  and  implies  the  ends  or  purposes 
intended  to  be  accomplished  by  the  Creator,  in  the  forma- 
tion of  the  various  parts  of  nature.  Many  final  causes  may 
have  contributed  to  the  formation  of  the  same  object.  As 
for  instance,  one  of  the  final  causes  of  the  exquisite  construc- 
tion of  a  human  eye,  was,  no  doubt,  to  enable  us  to  see;  an- 
other may  have  been  to  extend  the  sphere  of  our  rational  en- 


20  On  the  termSy  cause, 

joyment,  and  a  third  to  display  the  benignity  and  power  of 
the  Ahiiighty.  Final  causes,  therefore,  while  they  furnish 
unanswerable  arguments  in  proof  of  the  existence  of  a  Su- 
preme Contriver,  have  nothing  to  do,  except  as  motives  in- 
fluencing the  mind  of  the  deity,  in  the  production  of  effects, 
and  of  consequence,  do  not  enter  into  the  views  or  occupy 
the  attention  of  the  philosopher,  in  his  investigations  of  na- 
ture, whose  province  it  is  to  trace  the  series  of  causes  and 
effects,  or,  in  other  words,  afford  solutions  of  the  various 
phenomena  presented  to  his  inspection.  It  was  under  this 
view  of  the  subject,  no  doubt,  and  not  to  throw  any  slight 
upon  the  pursuit  of  final  causes,  when  such  pursuit  is  direct- 
ed to  its  proper  object,  the  proof  of  the  being  of  a  God  from 
the  wise  contrivances  of  nature,  that  Bacon  represents  the 
final  cause,  as  a  virgin  consecrated  to  the  deity,  (virgo  Deo 
consecrata,  by  a  most  beautiful  figure,)  and  therefore,  sterilis 
barren,  or  unproductive  of  any  important  results  to  science. 
In  the  true  and  philosophical  meaning  of  the  term,  a  cause 
may  be  defined  to  be  any  agent  or  principle,  existing  in  phy- 
sical or  moral  nature,  which  contains  within  itself  a  power  or 
efficiency  to  produce  an  effect,  and  that  effect  is  denominated 
a  phenomenon,  fact  or  appearance.  A  law  of  nature,  is  the 
manner  or  rule  by  which  this  cause,  agent  or  principle  ope- 
rates in  the  production  of  its  effect.  For  example — the  elec- 
tric fluid,  as  it  exists  in  nature,  is  properly  regarded  as  a 
cause,  agent  or  principle;  thunder  and  lightning,  are  the  phe- 
nomena exhibited  by  it,  and  the  laws  or  rules  of  its  action 
are  collected  and  ascertained  from  observation  and  experi- 
ment. To  illustrate  the  matter  still  farther.  One  of  the 
laws  of  electricity,  is,  that  when  one  part  of  nature  is  posi- 
tively electrified,  and  another,  in  its  immediate  vicinity,  ne- 
gatively electrified,  (to  use  the  language  of  Franklin)  elec- 
tric sparks  pass  from  the  one  to  the  other,  and  restore  the 
equilibrium.  The  same  may  be  said  of  gravity.  If  there  be, 
as  Newton  merely  conjectures,  (for  he  acknowledges,  as  will 


Phenomenon^  taw  of  nature^  ^c.  21 

be  seen  in  due  time,  that  the  cause  of  the  gravitation  of  bo- 
dies lies  under  a  veil  to  him  impenetrable,)  a  subtil  and  elastic 
fluid  which  occasions  bodies  to  be  attracted  towards  each 
other,  and  towards  a  common  centre;  that  fluid  would  pro- 
perly be  called  the  cause,  agent  or  principle  of  gravity.  The 
tendency  of  all  bodies  around  the  earth's  surface  to  its  centre, 
and  of  all  the  planets  to  the  sun,  are  the  phenomena,  facts  or 
appearances,  and  the  laws  of  gravity,  or  the  rules  by  which 
bodies  gravitate,  are  explained  and  demonstrated  in  natural 
philosophy. 

These  appear  to  me  to  be  the  true  and  precise  significa- 
tions of  the  aforementioned  terms,  and  by  carrying  along  with 
us  in  our   inquiries  distinct  ideas,  we   shall   find  many  difli- 
culties  removed,  and  obstructions  surmounted  which  might 
embarrass  and  impede  our  progress.     The   great  object  of 
philosophical  investigation,  as  has  been  frequently  remarked, 
is  to  trace  the  chain  of  causes  and  effects;  and  since  it  is  im- 
possible to  the   human  mind,  from  the   imperfection   of  its 
powers,  to   pursue  causes  originally   through   their  train  of 
operation  to  the  production  of  their  effects,  it  is  evident,  that 
the  only  legitimate  mode  of  procedure,  and  that  from  a  strict 
and  close  adherence  to  which  the  modern  schools   are  cha- 
racterised, is,  in  the   first  instance,  to  go  in  quest  of  pheno- 
mena, and  after  a  careful   collection,  examination  and  com- 
parison of  these,  to  establish  principles  and  attempt  solutions. 
From  an  observation  of  facts  to  ascend  to  their  causes,  and 
when  once  adequate  causes  have  been  fully  ascertained,  apply 
them  to  the   solution  of  future  phenomena,  is  the  great  pro- 
vince of  the  inquirer  into  nature.     Hoc  opus,  hie   labor  est. 
It  is  true  that  in  the  highest  and  most  appropriate  sense  of 
the  word,  God   is  the   only  efficient  cause  or  agent  in  the 
universe,  since  every  thing  in  nature,  throughout  its  whole 
frame  and  constitution,  and  all  its  diversified  operations,  must 
either  immediately  or  remotely  proceed  from  him;  and  it  is 
probable,  moreover,  that  it  will  ever  remain  an  insoluble  pro- 


22  On  the  terms,  cause, 

blem  in  science,  whether  he  accomplishes  every  object  and 
gives  rise  to  every  result  by  his  own  immediate  presence  and 
agency,  operating  always  as  the  remote  and  ultimate  cause 
behind  the  scene;  or  whether,  after  having  communicated  to 
matter  and  mind  their  several  powers,  and  impressed  upon 
them  the  laws  of  their  action,  he  has  rendered  his  farther  in- 
terference unnecessary  in  conducting  their  various  operations. 
There  is  nothing,  however,  unphilosophical  or  inconsistent 
with  our  ordinary  habits  of  thinking,  in  supposing,  that  he 
has  originally  endowed  both  material  and  immaterial  sub- 
stances with  a  power  or  efficacy  to  produce  certain  results, 
and  to  these  substances  we  give  the  title  of  secondary  causes, 
agents  or  principles.  He  is  the  great  primary  cause  of  all 
things;  all  other  things  act  in  obedience  and  subordination  to 
him.  Every  phenomenon  in  nature  is  one  link  in  the  vast 
chain,  whose  last  link  is  fastened  to  the  throne  of  heaven,  or 
to  use  the  language  of  lord  Verulam,  summum  naturalis  ca- 
tense  annulum,  pedi  solii  Jovis  affigi. 

As  abstract  truth  is  always  best  illustrated  by  examples, 
take  for  our  present  purpose,  that  to  which  I  have  already  ad- 
verted. We  discover  from  daily  experience  that  all  bodies  upon 
the  earth's  surface  gravitate  towards  its  centre,  and  Newton 
has  demonstrated  that  the  planets  gravitate  towards  the  sun. 
This  is  the  first  link  in  the  chain  of  causes  and  effects.  When 
we  ask  the  question,  what  can  be  the  cause  of  this  singular 
factf  Philosophy  answers,  that  it  is  referable  to  the  law  of 
attraction  or  gravitation,  under  which  some  undiscovered 
principle  acts.  This  is  the  second  link  in  the  chain.  Admit- 
ting that  this  principle,  which  occasions  the  tendency  of  bo- 
dies to  each  other,  were  discovered  to  be  a  gaseous  and  elas- 
tic fluid,  if  the  inquiry  be  continued  in  what  manner  can  this 
principle  cause  bodies  to  tend  towards  each  other,  the  only 
satisfaction  we  can  give  to  the  inquirer,  is,  that  it  proceeds 
from  some  inherent  virtue  or  efficacy  subsisting  in  it.  Should 
we  be  still  farther   interrogated  and  required  to  tell  from 


Phenomenon^  law  of  nature^  ^c,  23 

whence  this  power  or  efficiency  is  derived,  we  can  trace  it 
only  to  the  hand  of  God.  This  is  the  last  link  in  the  chain. 
And  we  shall  perceive,  upon  a  slight  examination,  that  every 
effect  throughout  the  whole  compass  of  nature,  when  traced 
back  to  its  source,  will  be  found  to  have  originated  in  the 
power  of  the  Almighty.  The  corn  is  ground  by  the  mill- 
stone as  an  agent;  the  mill-stone  is  set  in  motion  by  a  ma- 
chinery adjusted  to  the  purpose;  the  machinery  is  put  into 
action  by  a  wheel  propelled  by  the  force  of  a  stream  of  water; 
the  stream  of  water  descends  in  its  channel  by  the  force  of 
gravity,  and  the  principle  which  occasions  gravity  derives 
its  force  from  the  Supreme  Contriver.  The  first  are  all 
subordinate  agents,  operating  under  the  controul  and  sub- 
ject to  the  will  of  the  prime  mover. 

Dr.  Samuel  Clarke,  whose  opinions  are  always  to  be  held 
in  profound  respect,  as  in  depth  of  penetration  and  clearness 
of  understanding  he  is  almost  unequalled,  in  his  answer  to  Col- 
lin's treatise  concerning  liberty  and  necessity,  objects  to  the 
use  of  the  term  necessary  agent,  as  involving  an  absurdity, 
since  the  very  expressions  imply  that  such  objects  do  not 
act,  but  are  only  acted  upon.  Under  this  view  of  the  sub- 
ject he  would  restrict  the  term  agents  to  those  things  only 
which  have  the  power  of  originating  motion,  such  as  the 
Supreme  Being,  and  those  creatures  which  he  has  rendered 
capable  of  voluntary  action.  The  meanings  which  we  annex 
to  our  words  are  not,  perh?ps,  very  important,  provided  we 
take  especial  care,  that  the  same  collection  of  simple  ideas 
shall  always  enter  into  the  complex  one  denoted  by  them. 
If  we  adopt  the  definition  of  Dr.  Clarke,  and  consider" 
agents  as  those  things  only  which  possess  the  power  of  origi- 
nating motion,  then  all  those  principles  existing  in  the  phy- 
sical world,  which  are  incapable  of  voluntary  action,  may  be 
regarded  as  instruments,  (as  they  undoubtedly  are,)  fulfil- 
ling the  purposes  of  the  real  agents.  I  must  confess,  how- 
ever, that  I  have  a  very  distinct  idea  of  necessary  as  well 


24  On  the  terms^  cause^  ^c, 

as  voluntary  agents,  and  it  is  evident  that  mankind  were  in- 
fluenced by  impressions  of  this  kind  in  the  formation  of  the 
active  verbs  of  all  languages,  in  which  actions  are  ascribed  to 
objects  incapable  of  volition,  as  when  the  sun  is  said  to  give 
light  to  the  earth,  the  stream  to  overflow  its  banks,  lightning 
to  rive  the  oak,  and  noxious  eflluvia  to  occasion  disease.  Nor 
will  the  Atheist  be  able  to  derive  any  advantage  from  this 
phraseology,  when  it  is  kept  in  mind,  that  the  doctrine  strenu- 
ously maintained,  is,  that  every  secondary  or  necessary  agent 
which  exercises  its  influence  in  producing  effects,  must  have 
received  that  influence  from  him  whose  power  only  is  un- 
derived. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  opinions  of  Philosophers,  concerning  the  terms, 
cause,  phenomenon,  law  of  nature,  ^c. 

Felix,  qui  potuitrerum  cognoscere  causas.     Virg.  Geo.  2d.  490. 

That  we  may  not  appear  to  have  given  arbitrary  defini- 
tions of  our  terms,  we  shall  next  show  that  the  meanings 
which  we  annex  to  them  correspond  with  those  which  have 
been  assigned  them  by  the  best  philosophers,  both  of  ancient 
and  modern  times.  Under  the  division  of  efficient  causes, 
Aristotle  comprises  all  that  are  properly  entitled  to  that  de- 
nomination, when  we  speak  with  technical  accuracy;  and  ac- 
cordirgly  he  defines  philosophy  to  be  a  knowledge  of  causes. 
The  expressions  of  Cicero  prove  that  his  ideas  of  a  cause  ex- 
actly coincide  with  those  which  we  have  endeavoured  to  es- 
tablish. "  Itaque,  non  sic  causa  intelligi  debet,"  says  he, 
"  ut  quod  cuique  antecedat  id  ei  causa  sit,  sed  quod  cuique 
efficienter  antecedat."  That  is  to  be  deemed  a  true 
cause,  not  merely  which  precedes  another  thing,  but  that 
which,  being  prior  to  it,  has  efficiency  to  produce  it.  Mr. 
Locke  gives  the  following  account  of  the  relation  between 
cause  and  effect.  "  In  the  notice  our  senses  take  of  the  con- 
stant vicisitude  of  things,  we  cannot  but  observe  that  several 
particulars,  both  qualities  and  substances,  begin  to  existj  and 
that  they  receive  this  their  existence  from  the  due  applica- 
tion and  operation  of  some  other  being.  From  this  observa- 
tion we  get  our  ideas  of  cause  and  effect.  That  which  pro- 
duces any  simple  or  complex  ideas,  we  denote  by  the  gene- 
ral name,  cause,  and  that  which  is  produced,  effect.  Thus 
finding  that  in  that  substance  which  we  call  wax,  fluidity, 
which  is  a  simple  idea  which  was  not  in  it  before,  is  con- 
stantly produced  by  the  application  of  a  certain  degree  of 
heat,  we  call  the  simple  idea  of  heat,  in  relation  to  fluidity  in 
wax  the  cause  of  it,  and  fluidity  the  effect.     So  all  finding 

D 


26  Opinions  of  Philosophers 

that  the  substance  wood,  which  is  a  certain  collection  of  sim- 
ple ideas  so  called,  by  the  application  of  fire  is  turned  into 
another  substance  called  ashes,  i.  e.  another  complex  idea, 
consisting  of  a  collection  of  simple  ideas,  quite  different  from 
that  complex  idea  which  we  call  wood;  we  consider  fire  in 
relation  to  ashes  as  cause,  and  ashes  as  effect.  So  that  what- 
ever is  considered  by  us  to  conduce  or  operate  to  the  pro- 
ducing any  particular  simple  idea,  or  collection  of  simple 
ideas,  whether  substance  or  mode  which  did  not  before  exist, 
hath  thereby  in  our  minds  the  relation  of  a  cause,  and  so  is 
denominated  by  us.  For  to  have  the  idea  of  cause  and  ef- 
fect, it  suffices  to  consider  any  simple  idea  or  substance  as  be- 
ginning to  exist  by  the  operation  of  some  other,  without  know- 
ing the  manner  of  that  operation."*  This  account  so  exact- 
ly corresponds  to  the  doctrine  held  by  us,  that  we  think  it 
unnecessary  to  comment  upon  it.  That  the  word  agent, 
also,  is  used  by  Mr.  Locke  with  precisely  the  same  meaning 
as  that  which  we  have  annexed  to  it,  will  appear  from  what 
he  says  in  reference  to  the  origin  of  our  idea  of  power. 
"  The  mind  being  every  day  informed  by  the  senses  of  the 
alteration  of  those  simple  ideas  it  observes  in  things  without, 
and  taking  notice  how  one  comes  to  an  end  and  ceases  to  be, 
and  another  begins  to  exist  which  was  not  before;  reflecting 
also  on  what  passes  within  itself,  and  observing  a  constant 
change  in  its  ideas,  sometimes  by  the  impressions  of  the  out- 
ward objects  of  the  senses,  and  sometimes  by  the  determina- 
tion of  its  own  choice;  and  concluding  from  what  it  hath  so 
constantly  observed  to  have  been,  that  the  like  changes  will  for 
the  future  be  made  in  the  same  things  by  the  like  agents  and 
by  the  like  ways,  considers  in  one  thing  the  possibility  of 
having  any  of  its  simple  ideas  changed,  and  in  another  the 
possibility  of  making  that  change;  and  so  comes  by  that  idea 
which  we  call  power."     Here   we  find  that  objects  of  the 

*  Treatise  on  Understanding,  book  2.  cb.  26. 


Concerning  the  tertns^  Cause^  Phenomenon^  CsPc.       27 

senses  as  well  as  the  principles  of  our  minds  are  represent- 
ed as  agents  operating  to  produce  alterations  in  things.  Thus 
we  say,"  continues  Mr.  Locke, "  fire  has  a  power  to  melt  gold, 
that  is,  to  destroy  the  consistency  of  its  insensible  parts,  and 
consequently  its  hardness,  and  make  it  fluid;  and  the  sun  has 
a  power  to  blanch  wax,  whereby  the  yellowness  is  destroyed, 
and  whiteness  made  to  exist  in  its  room."*  When  these  two 
passages  are  compared,  it  is  evident,  that  the  doctrine  main- 
tained by  Mr.  L,  and  which  is  exactly  conformable  to  that 
which  we  have  already  assumed,  is,  that  heat  in  the  sun,  or 
in  a  culinary  fire,  is  that  principle,  cause  or  agent,  which  pos- 
sesses a  power  or  efficiency  to  blanch  wax  and  dissolve  gold. 
It  is  true,  that  this  power  and  efficiency  in  material  and  fi- 
nite agents  cannot  be  original  and  underived,  since  there  is 
no  other  Being  who  can  possess  underived  power,  but  he  who 
is  independent  and  eternal:  but  there  is  no  more  difficulty  in 
supposing  that  the  Creator  can  endow  some  portions  of  the 
material  world  with  the  power  to  operate  upon  and  produce 
alterations  in  others  and  in  mind  also,  than  there  is  in  sup- 
posing that  he  hath  communicated  to  living  creatures  the 
power  of  voluntary  motion.  These  matters  appear  extreme- 
ly plain  and  incontrovertible,  and  scarcely  worthy  of  such 
detailed  consideration;  but  the  purpose  for  which  we  bring 
them  forward  will  be  obvious  during  the  progress  of  this 
discussion. 

The  opinions  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  upon  this  point,  are  si- 
milar to  those  which  were  entertained  by  the  philosophers 
beforementioned.  "f Gravity,"  says  he,  "must  be  caused  by 
an  agent  acting  according  to  certain  laws.  In  prescribing  his 
rules  of  philosophising,  causes  are  always  referred  to  as  prin- 
ciples existing  in  nature,  and  operating  to  produce  their  re- 
sults.    We  are  to  admit,  according  to  him,  no  more  causes 

*  Treatise  on  Under,  book  2,  ch.  21. 
f  Newton's  Works,  vol.  4,  p.  438. 


28  Opinions  of  Philosophers 

of  things  than  are  both  true  and  sufficient  to  explain  the  ap- 
pearances; and  again,  to  "  the  same  natural  effects  we  are,  as 
far  as  possible,  to  assign  the  same  causes."  What  can  such 
expressions  mean  but  such  causes  or  principles  as  contain 
within  themselves  a  power  or  efBciency  to  produce  their  re- 
sults. Still  more  decisive  proof  of  his  views  on  this  subject 
may  be  derived  from  the  following  passages  of  his  works. 
"  Qua  causa  efficiente  hse  attractiones  peragantur,  id  vero  ^ic 
non  inquire.  Quam  ego  attractionem  appello,  fieri  sane  po- 
test ut  ea  efficiatur  impulsu,  vel  alio  aliquo  modo  nobis  ig- 
-  noto.  Hanc  vocem  attractionis  ita  hie  accipi  velim,  ut  in 
universum  solummodo  vim  aliquam  significare  intelligatur, 
qua  corpora  ad  se  mutuo  tendant:  cuicunque  demum  causse 
attribuenda  sit  ilia  vis.  Nam  ex  phvenomenis  naturae  illud 
nos  prius  edoctos  oportet,  quaenam  corpora  se  invicem  attra- 
hant,  et  quaenam  sint  leges  et  proprietates  istius  attractionis; 
quam  in  id  inquirere  par  sit,  quanam  efficiente  causa  pera- 
gatur  attractio."  (Optic  ques.  23.)  Again  he  says,  in  the  same 
treatise.  "  Atque  haec  quidem  principia  considero,  non  ut  oc- 
cultas  qualitates,  quae  ex  specificis  rerum  formis  oriri  fingan- 
tur;  sed  ut  universales  naturae  leges,  quibus  res  ipsse  suntfor- 
matae.  Nam  principia  quidem  talia  revera  existere,  osten- 
dunt  phaenomena  naturae;  licet  ipsoi-um  causae  quae  sint,  non- 
dum  fuerit  explicatum,  Affirmare  singulas  rerum  species, 
specificis  praeditas  esse  qualitatibus  occultis,  per  quas  ea  vim 
certam  in  agendo  habeant,  hoc  utique  est  nihil  dicere.  At  ex 
phaenomenis  naturae,  duo  vel  tria  derivare  generalia  motus 
principia,  et  deindc  explicare  quemadmodum  proprietates  et 
actiones  rerum  corporearum  omnium  ex  principiis  istis  con- 
sequantur,  id  vero  magnus  esset  factus  in  philosophia  pro- 
gressus,  etiamsi  principiorum  istorum  causae  nondum  essent 
cognita^."  To  the  same  purport  in  his  principia  he  proceeds. 
"  Phaenomena  caelorum  et  maris  nostri  per  vim  gravitatis  ex- 
posui,  sed  causam  gravitatis  nondum  assignavi.  Oritur  atque 
h;ix  vis  a  causa  aliqua,  qu«  penetrat  ad  usque  centra  Solis 


Concerning  the  terms ^  Cause,  Phenomenon,  &?c.        29 

et  Planetarum,  sine  virtutis  diminutione;'  quaeque  agit  non 
pro  quantitate  superficierum  particularium  in  quas  agit,  (ut 
Solent  causse  mechanicse)  sed  pro  quantitate  niaterise  solidse; 
et  cujus  actio  in  immensas  distentias  undique  extenditur, 
decrescendo  semper  in  duplici  rationedi&tantiarum.  Rationem 
vero  harum  gravitatis  pioprieiatum  ex  phsenomenis  nondum 
potui  deducere,  et  hypotheses  non  fingo.*" 

*  The  English  reader  will  find  tlie  above  passages  of  Newton  tlius  trans- 
lated by  Dr.  Clarke  in  his  fifth  reply  to  Leibnitz. 

What  the  efficient  cause  of  these  attractions  is,  I  do  not  here  inquire. 
What  I  call  attraction  may  possibly  be  caused  by  some  impulse  or  some 
other  way  unknown  to  us.  I  use  the  word  attraction  only  in  gene- 
ral to  signify  the  force  by  which  bodies  tend  towards  each  other,  what- 
ever may  be  the  cause  of  that  force.  For  we  must  learn  from  the  pheno- 
mena of  nature,  what  bodies  attract  each  other,  and  what  are  the  laws  and 
properties  of  that  attraction,  before  it  be  proper  to  inquire  what  the  ef- 
ficient cause  of  attraction  is.  Again — I  consider  these  principles  not  as 
occult  qualities,  imagined  to  arise  from  the  specific  forms  of  things;  but  as 
universal  laws  of  nature,  according  to  which  the  things  themselves  were 
formed.  For  that  such  principles  do  really  exist,  appears  from  the  pheno- 
mena of  nature,  though  what  the  causes  of  them  are,  be  not  yet  explained. 
To  affirm  that  every  distinct  species  of  things,  is  endued  with  specific  oc- 
cult qualities,  by  means  whereof  the  things  have  certain  active  powers, 
this,  indeed,  is  doing  nothing.  But  to  deduce  from  the  phenomena  of  na- 
ture, two  or  three  gener^d  principles  of  motion,  and  then  to  explain  how  the 
properties  and  actions  of  all  coporeal  things  follow  from  these  principles; 
this  would  be  a  i;reat  progress  in  philosophy,  though  the  causes  of  (hose 
principles  were  not  yet  discovered.  Again — I  have  explained  the  pheno- 
mena of  the  Heavens  and  the  sea  by  the  force  of  gravity;  but  the  cause  of 
gravity  I  have  not  yet  assigned.  It  is  a  force  arising  from  some  cause 
which  reaches  to  the  very  centre  of  the  sun  and  planets,  without  any  dimi- 
nution of  its  force,  and  it  acts  not  proportionally  to  the  surfaces  of  the  par- 
ticles it  acts  upon,  as  mechanical  causes  use  to  do,  but  proportionally  to 
the  quantity  of  solid  matter.  And  its  action  reaches  every  way  to  immense 
distances,  decreasing  always  in  a  duplicate  ratio  of  the  distances.  But  the 
cause  of  these  properties  of  gravity,  1  have  not  yet  found  deducible  from  the 
phenomena,  and  hypotheses  I  frame  not. 


30  Opinions  of  Philosophers ^  fe?c. 

We  have  selected  these  passages  from  the  works  of  New- 
ton, because,  taken  together,  they  furnish  sufficiently  clear 
and  exact  ideas  about  the  signification  of  those  terms  whose 
explanation  we  have  attempted.  First,  the  cause  or  great 
operating  principle  of  gravity  whose  influence  pervades  the 
whole  system,  reaching  to  the  very  centre  of  the  planets  and 
the  sun,  he  acknowledges  to  be  unknown,  not  yet  appearing 
to  him  to  be  deducible  from  the  phenomena.  Next,  the  laws 
of  gravitation,  or  the  rules  by  which  the  unkno\»n  principle 
operates,  he  considers  as  ascertained  by  observation  and  just 
inference  of  reason;  and  lastly  the  facts  or  phenomena  them- 
selves are  the  tendencies  of  all  bodies  around  the  earth  to  its 
centre,  and  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  These  are 
precisely  the  views  of  these  matters  which  we  have  endea- 
voured to  establish.  The  opinions  of  Bacon,  Des  Cartes, 
and  unnumbered  other  philosophers  might  easily  be  shown 
to  correspond  with  these. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Hie  opinions  of  Mr.  Hume  on  Came  and  Effect. 

Such  a  full  and  elaborate  explanation  of  terms,  in  them- 
selves simple  and  intelligible,  would  have  been  unnecessary, 
had  they  not  been  rendered  ambiguous  and  confused  in  their 
signification  by  some  writers  of  a  more  recent  date  than  the 
authors  before  referred  to.  That  writers,  whose  evident  aim 
is,  to  treat  every  received  maxim  in  science  as  a  professed 
enemy,  with  whom  they  are  to  wage  hostility,  and  who,  in 
the  prosecution  of  this  warfare,  would  unsettle  the  foundations, 
not  only  of  religious  and  moral,  but  even  of  philosophical 
and  riiathematical  truth,  and  conduct  the  understandings  of 
mankind  to  universal  scepticism,  and  even  a  blank  atheism, 
should  adopt  as  one  of  the  expedients,  by  which  to  accom- 
plish their  purpose,  a  doubtful  and  cloudy  application  of 
terms;  sometimes,  taking  them  as  expressive  of  one  combi- 
nation of  ideas,  and,  at  other  times,  of  another;  at  one  time, 
using  them  according  to  ordinary  acceptation,  at  another,  in 
a  meaning  variant  from  the  authorised  usage  of  the  language, 
was  to  have  been  anticipated.  Accordingly  we  find  Mr, 
Hume,  in  his  treatise  of  human  nature,  giving  the  following 
account  of  cause  and  effect,  as  far  as  his  opinion  is  to  be  col- 
lected from  the  affected  obscurity  of  his  style,  and  the  studied 
intricacy  and  involution  in  his  modes  of  thinking.  He  divides 
all  our  perceptions  into  impressions  and  ideas,  the  latter  be- 
ing regarded  merely  as  the  faint  images  or  copies  of  the  for- 
mer; and  to  this  arbitrary  division  of  our  perceptions,  alike 
unknown  to  the  schools  and  to  nature,  he  adverts  in  laying  the 
foundation  of  his  doctrine  about  causation.  "  To  begin  regu- 
larly," says  he,  "  we  must  consider  the  idea  of  causation,  and 
see  from  what  origin  it  is  derived.  'Tis  impossible  to  reason 
justly  without  understanding  perfectly  the  idea  concerning 


32  Opinions  of  Mr.  Hume 

which  we  reason;  and  'tis  impossible  perfectly  to  understand 
any  idea  without  tracing  it  up  to  its  origin,  and  examining 
that  primary  impression  from  which  it  arises.  Let  us,  there- 
fore, cast  our  eyes  on  any  two  objects  which  we  call  cause 
and  eifect,  and  turn  them  on  all  sides  in  order  to  find  that 
impression  which  produces  an  idea  of  such  prodigious  conse- 
quence." He  maintains  that,  with  the  most  diligent  search, 
he  can  discover  no  previous  impression,  from  which  the  idea 
of  efficiency  or  necessary  connection  between  causes  and  ef- 
fects can  be  derived,  and  that  the  relation  of  contiguity  and 
constant  conjunction  are  all  that  are  essential  to  causation. 
But  lest  it  should  be  asserted  that  our  having  a  distinct  idea 
of  force,  power  or  efficiency  in  one  object  to  produce  an  ef- 
fect upon  another,  shows  that  we  have  some  ideas  which 
have  not  been  preceded  by  their  correspondent  impression, 
and  overthrows  his  theory  of  perception,  instead  of  his  theory 
overturning  the  doctrine  of  causation;  he  proceeds  to  the 
discussion  of  the  two  following  propositions.  "  First,  for 
what  reason  we  pronounce  it  necessary,  that  every  thing 
whose  existence  has  a  beginning,  should  also  have  a  cause? 
Secondly,  why  we  conclude  that  such  particular  causes  must 
necessarily  have  such  particular  effects?"  In  reference  to 
that  maxim  so  generally  received  in  philosophy,  that  what- 
ever begins  to  exist  must  have  a  cause  of  its  existence,  it  is 
neither  intuitively  nor  demonstrably  certain.  And  since  it 
is  not  from  knowledge  or  scientific  reasoning,  that  we  derive 
the  opinion  of  the  necessity  of  a  cause  to  every  new  pro- 
duction, that  opinion  must  necessarily  arise  from  experience 
and  observation.  Now  the  nature  of  experience  is  this.  We 
remember  to  have  had  frequent  instances  of  the  existence  of 
one  species  of  objects;  and  also  remember  that  the  indivi- 
duals of  another  species  of  objects  have  always  attended  them, 
and  have  existed  in  regular  order  of  contiguity  and  succes- 
sion in  regard  to  them.  Thus  we  remember  to  have  seen 
that  species  of  objects  we  call  flame,  and  to  have  felt  that 


On  Cause  and  Effect.  ZS> 

species  of  sensation  we  call  heat.  We  likewise  call  to  mind 
their  constant  conjunction  in  all  past  instances.  Without  any 
further  ceremony  \ve  call  the  one  cause  and  the  other  effect, 
and  infer  the  existence  of  the  one  from  that  of  the  other. 
In  giving  a  solution  of  the  second  question,  viz.  why  we  con- 
clude that  such  particular  causes  must  have  such  particular 
effects,  he  maintains;  "  that  if  it  be  allowed  for  a  moment, 
that  the  production  of  one  object  by  another  in  any  one  in- 
stance implies  a  power,  and  that  this  power  is  connected  with 
the  effect,  we  have  no  reason  to  infer  that  the  same  power  still 
exists  merely  upon  the  appearance  of  the  sensible  qualities. 
The  appeal  to  past  experience  decides  nothing;  and  at  the  very 
utmost  can  only  prove  that  that  very  object  which  produced 
any  other,  was  at  thai  very  instant,  endowed  with  such  a  power, 
but  fcan  never  prove  that  the  same  power  must  continue  in 
the  same  object  or  collection  of  sensible  qualities;  much  less 
that  a  like  power  is  always  conjoined  to  such  sensible  quali- 
ties. Thus,"  he  concludes, "  not  only  our  reason  fails  us  in  the 
discovery  of  the  ultimate  connexion  between  causes  and  ef- 
fects; but  even  after  experience  has  informed  us  of  their  con- 
stant conjunction;  'tis  impossible  for  us  to  satisfy  ourselves 
by  our  reason  why  we  should  extend  that  experience  beyond 
those  particular  instances  which  have  fallen  under  our  ob- 
servation." 

The  passages  before  extracted  from  Locke,  Newton  and 
Cicero,  when  compared  to  these  from  Mr.  Hume  upon  the 
same  subject,  furnish  us  with  a  tolerably  just  conception  of 
the  difference  between  that  clear  and  intense  light  which  is 
shed  around  the  investigations  of  the  true  philosopher,  of 
him  who  exerts  himself  to  the  utmost  to  become,  in  sincerity 
and  truth,  the  faithful  interpreter  of  nature;  and  those  faint 
and  false  fires  which  cast  a  dubious  and  deceptive  glimmer- 
ing along  the  footsteps  of  those  who  would  sedulously,  and 
with  full  purpose  of  mischief,  lead  us  astray  from  the  paths 
of  truth  and  right  reason.  Is  there  any  one  who  is  in  the  smal- 

i: 


34  Opintorus  of  Mr.  Hitme 

lest  degree  versed  in  the  science  of  nature,  and  accustomed 
to  trace  his  ideas  to  their  origin,  or  compare  and  combine 
them,  who  would  seriously  maintain  that  our  ideas  of  the  re- 
lation of  cause  and  effect,  and  of  the  contiguity  and  conjunc- 
tion of  objects  are  the  same?  The  veriest  tyro  in  metaphy- 
sicks  could  detect  a  fallacy  of  this  kind.  The  mere  contigui- 
ty and  conjunction  of  those  objects  existing  in  nature,  with- 
out conceiving  of  them  as  possessed  of  powers  and  actually 
exercising  those  powers,  would  not  afford  even  a  plausible 
account  of  those  numberless  changes  and  modifications  both 
bodies  and  minds  are  perpetually  undergoing,  and  the  endless 
diversity  of  forms  they  are  successively  assuming.  If  con- 
tiguity and  constant  conjunction  form  the  only  bond  of  con- 
nexion between  cause  and  effect,  then,  there  is  no  one  thing 
in  nature  which  may  not  be  the  cause  of  any  other.  Heat 
may  be  the  cause  of  cold,  and  cold  of  heat,  health  may  be 
the  cause  of  sickness,  and  sickness  of  health,  rain  may  be  the 
cause  of  sunshine,  and  sunshine  of  rain,  winter  of  summer, 
and  summer  of  winter.  I  open  the  lids  of  my  eyes  during 
the  day  and  I  perceive  the  objects  around  me;  I  unfold  the 
shutters  of  window  and  my  room  is  illuminated.  Now,  in 
both  these  cases,  the  one  event  immediately  succeeds  the 
other,  and  is  constantly  conjoined  to  it.  But  is  the  act  of 
opening  my  eye-lids  the  cause  of  my  seeing,  or  the  unfolding 
of  the  shutters  of  my  window  the  cause  of  the  illumination  of 
my  room?  Scarcely  any  one  can  be  so  little  skilled  in  tracing 
the  operations  of  nature  as  to  be  imposed  upon  by  so  pal- 
pable a  sophism.  Take  the  example  furnished  us  by  Mr. 
Hume  himself.  *'  We  remember  to  have  seen  that  species 
of  objects  which  we  call  flame,  and  to  have  felt  that  species 
of  sensation,  which  we  call  heat.  We  likewise  call  to  mind 
their  constant  conjunction  in  all  past  instances.  Without 
further  ceremony  we  call  the  one  cause  and  the  other  effect." 
"We  may  leave  it  to  the  judgment  of  any  man  of  sound  un- 
derstanding, however  little  accustomed  to  metaphysical  spe- 


On  Cause  and  Eff'ect,  55 

eulattons,  to  decide  whether  this  be  a  just  interpretation  of 
nature.  Besides  the  contiguity  and  constant  conjunction 
of  heat  as  a  quality  in  fire  and  of  our  sensation,  do  we  not 
become  sensible  that  there  is  a  force  or  power  in  the  fire  to 
produce  that  sensation?  We  never  approach  the  fire,  but  our 
lungs  are  at  the  same  time,  inflated  with  air  and  we  breathe, 
the  blood  is  propelled  through  the  arteries  and  our  pulse 
beats.  These  acts  of  breathing  through  the  lungs  and  the 
pulsations  of  the  heart  are  events  as  constantly  conjoined  to 
that  of  our  approaching  the  fire  as  our  sensation  of  heat;  and 
yet  is  the  heat  in  the  fire  the  cause  of  our  breathing  or  of 
the  pulsations  of  the  heart?  In  what,  then,  it  may  be  asked, 
consists  the  difference  between  the  relation  which  our  sensa- 
tion of  heat  bears  to  that  quality  in  fire  which  excites  that 
sensation,  and  that  which  the  same  quality  in  fire  bears  to  our 
breaching  through  the  lungs  and  the  pulsations  of  our  arte- 
ries? It  is  evident,  that  the  difference  does  not  consist  in  the 
greater  or  less  degrees  of  contiguity  and  conjunction  of  those 
objects,  as  they  are  equally  contiguous  and  conjoined  to  each 
other.  The  matter  can  be  solved  only  by  admitting  that  in 
the  one  case,  we  are  sensible  of  a  power  residing  in  the  fire 
which  operates  upon  our  sense  and  produces  its  results;  in 
the  other  case  we  are  sensible  of  no  such  power  or  operation. 
Instances  without  number  might  be  adduced,  that  fall  under 
every  person's  daily  experience,  in  which  objects  are  found 
to  be  contiguous  and  conjoined  to  each  other,  precedent  and 
sequent,  without  making  the  smallest  approximation  towards 
that  union  which  is  denoted  by  the  expressions,  cause  and 
effect.  In  fact,  if  Mr,  Hume's  representation  of  this  matter  be 
correct,  the  pursuits  of  the  philosopher  are  greatly  abridged, 
and  his  irksome  and  laborious  exertions  in  the  prosecution 
of  his  discoveries  utterly  superseded.  If  instead  of  striv- 
ing with  the  ancient  Peripateticks  to  attain  to  a  knowledge  of 
causes,  properly  so  called,  or  with  Newton  to  arrive  at  a  so- 
lution of  the  phenomena  of  nature,  by  reterring  them  to  such 


56  Opinions  of  Mr.  Hume 

causes  as  are  both  true  and  sufficient  to  explain  them;  in  a 
word,  if  instead  of  exerting  himself  to  the  utmost  with  the 
soundest  and  best  investigators  both  of  an  ancient  and  mo- 
dern times,  to  remove  the  awful  veil  from  nj\ture,  and  dis- 
close to  the  pupils  of  science  her  venerable  mysteries;  his 
task  be  limited  to  tracing  the  contiguities  and  conjunctions 
of  objects,  their  antecedences  and  sequences,  it  might,  in- 
deed, be  rendered  more  practicable  and  easy;  but  at  the  same 
time  would  become  in  the  highest  degree  frivolous  and  fu- 
tile. What  could  be  more  easy  than  to  trace  a  thousand  con- 
tiguities and  conjunctions  of  objects,  what  more  difficult  than 
by  a  complete  induction,  to  ascend  upon  the  modern  plan  of 
philosophising  to  efficient  causes  and  general  maxims  of  sci- 
ence? It  is  worthy  of  remark,  indeed,  that  there  is  a  sum- 
mary mode  of  philosophising,  or  compendious  method  of 
explaining  the  appearances  of  nature,  prevalent  among  the 
vulgar,  which  is  not  unlike  that  recommended  by  him,  whom 
Dr.  Reid  and  his  contemporaries  of  the  same  school  of  me- 
physicks,  so  often  mention  as  one  of  the  acutest  metaphysi- 
cians that  ever  lived.  Minds  undisciplined  to  thinking  and 
inquiry,  and  untutored  in  the  science  of  nature,  appear  to 
have  a  natural  propensity  to  regard  events  which  merely  pre- 
cede or  succeed  each  other,  in  the  light  of  causes  and  ef- 
fects; as  when  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  or  moon  is  thought,  by 
the  vulgar,  to  occasion  the  changes  that  ensue  in  the  state  of 
the  atmosphere,  or  itself  to  have  arisen  from  the  vices  of  men, 
the  approach  of  a  comet  to  be  the  cause  of  pestilential  influ- 
ences. Non  causa  pro  causa,  is  a  very  ordinary  vulgar  so- 
phism. Whenever  such  appearances  among  the  heavenly 
bodies  have  been  found  in  conjunction  with  such  changes  and 
influences  upon  earth,  although  these  phenomena  may  be 
casual  coincidences,  events  purely  contingent  and  unconnect- 
ed with  each  other  in  the  order  of  nature,  the  vulgar  imagi- 
nation immediately  assigns  to  them  a  real  connection,  gnd 
considers  them  as  bearing  towards  each  other  the  relation  of 


On  Cause  and  Effect.  "  37 

cause  and  effect.     In  fine,  the  same  mode  of  reasoning  pur- 
sued by  Mr.  Hume,  when  extended  to  those  limits  to  which  it 
inevitably  leads,  however  reluctant  he   might  have  felt  to 
trace  it  to  such  consequences,  would   give   the   sanction  of 
philosophy  to  the  wildest  reveries  of  folly  and  imposture,  and 
the  most  extravagant  freaks  of  ignorance   and  superstition. 
When  the  judicial  astrologer  pretends  to  foretell  the  future 
fortunes  of  men  from  the  relative  positions  of  the  heavenly 
bodies  at  the    period  of  their  nativity — when  the  Roman 
Soothsayers  and  Augurs   undertook  to   predict  the   fate  of 
armies  and  empires,  from  the  pecking  of  fowls,  the  flight  of 
birds  and  the  entrails  of  victims;  when  the  votary  of  super- 
stition performed   a  toilsome  journey  to   the   tomb   of  his 
tutelary  saint,  and  waited  with  unwearied  patience  expecting 
to  be  healed  of  his  diseases  by  the  heavenly  influence  sup- 
posed to  be  shed  from  his  ashes:  what  did  all  these  dupes  of 
ignorance  and  credulity,  but  rest  their  conclusions,  and  sup- 
port their  visionary  hopes,  upon  the  foundation  laid  for  them 
by  Mr.  Hume?  Men  born  at  certain  conjunctions  and  opposi- 
tions of  the  heavenly  bodies,  had  been  found  to  be  partakers 
of  peculiar  fortunes.     Certain  appearances  in  the  pecking  of 
fowls,  the  flight  of  birds,  and  the  entrails  of  victims,  had  been 
succeeded  by  prosperous  or  disastrous  circumstances  to  ar- 
mies and  empires;  devotion  at  the  tombs  of  saints  had  been 
attended,  on  some  occasions,  with  the  cure  of  diseases.  Hence 
from  the  contiguities  and  conjunctions  between  these  events, 
their  antecedences  and  sequences,  the  astrologer,  the  sooth- 
sayer, and  the  votary  of  superstition,  supposed  himself  justi- 
fied in  considering  them  as  assuming  towards  each  other  the 
relation  of  cause  and  effect.     So  nearly  do  the   extremes  in 
the  principles  of  scepticism  and  atheism  approach  to  those  of 
ignorance  and  superstition!     And  thus  does  he,  who  thought 
himself  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  successful  enemies  of  su- 
perstition, unwarily  establish  maxims  that  lead  to  its  support 
and  encouragementj 


38  Opinions  of  Mr-  Hume  ^ 

But  we  have  objections  of  a  much  more  serious  nature  to 
bring  against  the  principles  of  Mr.  Hume.  They  lead  by  in- 
evitable consequence  to  the  rankest  atheism.  For,  if  as  he 
asserts,  we  have  no  idea  of  power  or  efficiency  in  causes  to 
produce  their  effects,  there  being  no  previous  impression  to 
which  that  idea  can  be  traced;  and  if  moreover,  we  have  no 
reason  to  believe,  either  from  intuition,  demonstration  or  ex- 
perience, that  there  is  any  efficiency  in  any  one  thing  to  pro- 
duce another;  and,  still  farther,  if  when  any  effect  is  ex- 
hibited to  us  there  be  no  good  ground  to  conclude  that  there 
must  have  been  a  cause,  there  being  no  truth  in  the  maxim, 
that  whatever  begins  to  exist  must  have  a  cause  ;  the  very 
foundation  of  the  argument  by  which  the  existence  of  a  God 
is  proved  is  sapped  and  destroyed.  And  yet  we  find  the  learn- 
ed and  judicious  Dr.  Reid,  in  animadverting  upon  these  opi- 
nions of  Mr.  Hume,  speaking  in  the  following  style.  "  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  our  belief  that  every  thing  that  begins  to  exist 
has  a  cause,  be  got  only  by  experience:  and  if,  as  Mr.  Hume 
maintains,  the  only  notion  of  a  cause  be  something  prior  to 
the  effect,  which  experience  has  shewn  to  be  constantly  con- 
joined with  such  effect,  I  see  not  how  from  these  principles 
it  is  possible  to  prove  the  existence  of  an  intelligent  cause  of 
the  universe."  This  must  be  allowed  to  be  very  mild  and 
courteous  treatment  of  a  man  who  had  the  impudence  and 
the  hardihood  to  broach  such  abominable  doctrines.  The 
Dr,  need  not  have  discovered  any  solicitude  to  relieve  the 
principles  of  Mr.  Hume  from  the  charge  of  leading  to  the 
exclusion  of  an  intelligent  cause  of  all  things,  as  he  seems 
not  to  have  been  liable  on  that  score  to  any  such,  compunc- 
tions visitings  of  nature  for  himself.  Not  only  is  it  true, 
that  from  the  principles  of  Mr.  Hume,  it  is  impossible  to 
prove  the  existence  of  an  intelligent  cause  of  the  universe; 
but  it  is  moreover,  perfectly  certain,  that,  advancing  upon  the 
ground  of  such  doctrines,  we  are  led  at  once  precipitately 
and  unavoidably  into  the  gulf  of  atheism.     How  much  so- 


On  Cause  and  Effect  i    .  39 

ever  we  may  be  inclined  to  approve  of  that  christian  temper 
and  moderation  which  would  induce  us,  like  a  Campbell,  a 
Watson,  and  a  Hooker,  to  treat  a  literary  antagonist  with 
candour  and  liberality,  and  to  oppose  even  the  most  perni- 
cious errors  in  a  spirit  of  meekness  and  forbearance;  it  may 
be  made  a  question,  when  the  great  and  fundamental  inter- 
ests of  truth  and  mankind  are  at  stake,  whether  it  is  not  at 
once  more  compatible  with  true  sincerity  and  zeal  in  their 
cause,  and  more  likely  to  terminate  in  a  favourable  result; 
instead  of  meeting  the  adversaries  of  truth  and  righteous- 
ness with  such  softened  phrase  of  overacted  courtesy,  to  as- 
sume the  severe  countenance  and  stern  reproof  of  a  Beattie, 
what  Mr.  Hume  himself  denominates  "  the  arrogance  and 
scurrility"  of  the  Warburtonian  school,  or  even  the  intrepid 
invective  of  "  slashing  Bentley  with  his  desperate  hook."  It 
is  scarcely  to  be  conceived  as  consistent  with  a  hearty  zeal 
in  the  cause  of  truth  and  virtue,  to  treat  their  worst  enemies 
with  so  much  respect  and  tenderness.  We  would  not  raise 
the  Tomahawk  again&t  a  literary  adversary,  or  kindle  around 
him  the  fires  of  the  stake;  but,  according  to  all  the  laws  of 
the  most  civilized  warfare,  we  must  be  allowed  to  resort  to 
the  use  of  those  weapons  the  best  suited  to  the  nature  of  the 
contest,  and  the  most  likely  to  produce  a  favourable  issue. 
Atheism  is  a  monster  not  to  be  tamed  or  subdued  by  gentle- 
ness and  coaxing.  But  this  is  not  all  that  we  have  to  re- 
prehend in  the  treatment  which  Dr.  Reid  has  given  to  Mr. 
Hume's  doctrine.  Not  only  in  no  part  of  his  voluminous 
writings  on  these  subjects,  has  he  spoken  in  terms  of  such 
decided  reprobation  as  the  case  required,  but  on  some  occa- 
sions we  find  him  capable  of  oflfering  a  direct  apology  for  it. 
"  The  common  theory,  "  says  he,  "that  all  our  ideas  are  ideas 
of  sensation  and  reflection,  and  that  all  our  belief  is  a  per*" 
ception.of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  those  ideas,  ap- 
pears to  be  repugnant  both  to  the  idea  of  an  efficient  cause 
and  the  belief  of  its  necessity.  An  attachment  to  that  theory. 


40  Opinions  of  Mr.  Hume 

has  led  some  Philosophers  to  deny  that  we  have  any  concep* 
tion  of  an  efficient  cause  or  of  active  power,  because  efficien- 
cy and  active  power  are  not  ideas  either  of  sensation  or  re- 
flection. They  maintain,  therefore,  that  a  cause  is  only 
something  prior  to  the  effect  and  constantly  conjoined  with 
it.    This  is  Mr.  Hume's  notion  of  a  cause. 

Here  we  find  that  hideous  monster  atheism  traced  to  the 
door  of  Mr.  Locke  and  the  philosophers;  but  we  shall  show 
during  the  progress  of  these  dissertations  that  it  is  the  genu- 
ine offspring  of  Mr.  Hume  himself.  This  is  not  the  only 
time  in  Avhich  in  the  writings  of  Dr.  Reid,  the  errors  of  Mr. 
Hume  and  others  are  laid  to  the  account  of  the  great  en- 
glish  metaphysician.  Dr.  Reid  had  before  indicated  his 
doubts  whether  our  belief  that  every  thing  which  begins  to 
exist  has  a  cause  be  gotten  only  by  experience,  and  he  now 
peremptorily  asserts,"  that  the  common  theory  that  all  our 
ideas  are  ideas  of  sensation  and  reflection,  and  that  all  our 
belief  is  a  perception  of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of 
these  ideas,  appears  to  be  repugnant  to  the  idea  of  an  effi- 
cient cause  and  a  belief  in  its  necessity."  From  these  and 
other  expressions  more  directly  in  point,  it  appears  that  Dr. 
Reid  did  not  think  that  our  idea  of  cause  and  effect  is  derived 
from  experience,  or  through  the  channel  either  of  sensation 
or  reflection;  and  he  undoubtedly  would  not  be  willing  to 
admit  any  doctrine  which  is  repugnant  to  the  idea  of  an  effi- 
cient cause  and  a  belief  in  its  necessity.  And  yet  it  is  a  lit- 
tle singular  that  the  Dr.  in  a  very  few  sentences  before,  in 
attempting  to  trace  to  its  origin  our  idea  of  cause  and  effect, 
or  active  power,  seems  inadvertently  to  have  been  betrayed 
into  the  theory  of  Mr.  Locke.  "  It  is  very  probable,"  says 
he, "  that  the  very  conception  or  idea  of  active  power  and  effi- 
cient causes,  is  derived  from  our  voluntary  exertions  in  pro- 
ducing effects,  and  that  if  we  were  not  conscious  of  such  ex- 
ertions, we  should  have  no  conception  at  all  of  a  cause  or  ac- 


On  Cause  and  Eff'ect.  41 

tive  power,  and  consequently  no  conviction  of  the  necessity 
of  a  cause  to  every  change  which  we  observe  in  nature.* 

By  adverting  to  the  portion  of  Mr.  Locke's  treatise  before 
quoted  in  part,  the  reader  will  find  that  the  author  derives 
our  idea  of  power,  and  of  cause  and  effect  also,  both  from 
sensation  and  reflection,  from  our  observation  of  the  opera- 
tions of  bodies  upon  each  other,  and  also  the  operations  of 
our  own  minds.  Now,  what  does  Dr.  Reid,  in  this  passage 
but  refer  the  same  idea  to  the  origin  of  reflection  or  con- 
sciousness, excluding  sensation  from  all  share  in  producing 
it?  But  after  all  that  has  been  said  on  this  subject,  we  can 
perceive  no  good  reason  for  impugning  the  opinion  of  Mr. 
Locke,  that  we  derive  our  idea  of  cause  and  effect,  power 
and  active  power,  as  well  from  witnessing  the  changes  and 
alterations  which  outward  objects  produce  on  each  other,  as 
from  the  operations  of  our  own  minds,  and  our  voluntary  ex- 
ertions in  producing  effects. — Let  us  now  return  to  the  doc- 
trine of  Mr.  Hume.  Dr.  Reid  asserts,  that  an  attachment  to 
the  common  theory,  that  all  our  ideas  are  ideas  of  sensation 
or  reflection,  and  all  our  belief  a  perception  of  the  agreement 
or  disagreement  between  these  ideas,  led  Mr.  Hume  to  deny 
that  we  have  any  conception  of  an  efficient  cause.  But  the 
Dr.  should  have  recollected  that  a  man,  in  commencing 
sceptick,  as  soon  as  he  is  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  that 
fraternity,  finds  it  imposed  as  one  of  the  strictest  rules  of  his 
order,  to  discard  his  attachment  to  all  theories  whatever. 
Like  Ishmael,  his  hand  should  be  against  every  man,  con- 
vinced that  every  man's  hand  is  against  him.  He  should 
believe  in  nothing  but  that  nothing  is  worthy  of  belief,  op- 
pose with  his  utmost  strength  all  those  truths  which  others 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  considering  as  established  and  con- 
secrated, and  discover  a  leaning  towards  all  that  by  others 
are  regarded  as  questionable  or  absurd,  exploded  or  offensive, 
hazard  any  doctrines  or  arguments  that  suit  his  purpose,  at 
*See  Essay  fourth,  upon  cause  and  effect,  page,  409.  vol.  2. 
F 


4^  Opinions  of  Mr.  Hume, 

the  time,  without  fear  of  being  detected  in  any  inconsisten- 
cies with  himself,  since  this  circumstance  would  not  defeat 
or  mar  his  great  design,  and  whenever  he  finds  himself  at  a 
loss  for  sufficient  proofs  to  lead  to  his  conclusions,  involve 
the  whole  subject  in  a  cloud  of  subtilty  and  confusion,  and 
escape  to  his  inferences,  unobserved  through  the  darkness. 
In  all  these  qualifications  of  an  able  sceptick  we  think  Mr. 
Hume  an  admirable  proficient.  He  certainly  was  not  led 
into  his  sceptical  and  atheistical  principles  from  his  attach- 
ment to  the  theory  of  Mr.  Locke  and  the  philosophers,  since 
he  found  no  better  ground  in  that  theory  on  which  to  erect 
his  system,  if  it  may  be  called  such,  than  in  the  doctrines  of 
those  metaphysicians  who  have  succeeded  them.  And  after 
a  tolerably  careful  perusal  of  his  works,  we  profess  ourselves 
unable  to  discover  in  him  a  fondness  for  any  one  truth  or 
system  throughout  the  whole  circle  of  the  sciences. — In  fact 
as  a  professed  Pyrrhonist,  this  would  have  been  inconsistent 
v/ith  his  plan,  which  is  not  to  construct  systems,  but  to  limit 
his  views  solely  to  the  subversion  of  the  systems  of  others. 
It  is  true  that  in  the  commencement  of  his  treatise  uppn 
cause  and  effect,  he  adverts  to  a  distinction  made  by  himself 
among  our  perceptions,  in  which,  without  any  authority  from 
the  schools  or  from  nature  herself,  he  divides  them  into  im- 
pressions and  ideas,  considering  the  first  as  our  original 
perceptions,  and  the  second  as  the  mere  copies  or  images  of 
ihese.  So  far,  however,  is  he  from  following  Mr.  Locke  in 
this  arbitrary  division,  that  he  expressly  asserts,  that  in  this 
manner  he  restores  the  term  idea  to  its  original  signification, 
from  which  it  had  been  perverted  by  Mr.  Locke,  when  he 
makes  ideas  include  all  our  perceptions.  It  is  true,  moreo- 
ver, that  Mr.  Hume  makes  use  of  this  arbitrary  division  of 
our  perceptions,  into  impressions  and  ideas,  as  the  first  step 
in  his  progress  towards  overturning  the  doctrine  of  causa- 
tion, and  that  he  seems  to  think  it  a  very  convenient  instru- 
ment for  the  purpose,  since  he  professes  that,  with  the  most 


On  Cause  and  Effect,  43 

diligent  search,  he  cannot  find  any  previous   impression  to 
which  the  idea  of  power  or  efficiency  is  to  be  referred  and  of 
which  it  is  the  image  or  copy.  Others,  perhaps,  might  think 
themselves  a  little  more  fortunate  in  this  search,  and  without 
laying  claims  to  uncommon  perspicacity,  might  imagine  that 
even  upon  his  own  principles,  considering  the  term  impres- 
sions   as    equivalent   to  that    of   our    original    perceptions, 
an     impression   or   original   perception  might  be    found  to 
which  the    idea  ot  power   might   be    traced.     It    is  worthy 
of  remark,  however,  that  while  Mr.  Hume  does  endeavour 
to  subvert  the  doctrine  of  causation  by  attempting  to  show 
that  there  is   no   impression  to  which   the   idea    of  power 
or  efficiency  can  be  traced,  yet  he  does  not  rest  upon  this 
point  the    main    stress  of  his    argument. — The    foundation 
of  his  atheism  is  much  deeper.     Perceiving  that  it  would  be 
very  justly  alleged  against  him,  that  the  very   circumstance 
of  his  being  able   to  reason  on  the  subject,  and  speak  intelli- 
gibly about  power,  cause,  and  effect,  was  decisive  proof  of 
his  having  ideas  of  them,  since  he  could  not  argue   about 
any  thing  of  which  he  had  no  idea;  and  of  consequence,  that 
if  according  to  his  views  there  were  no  previous  impressions, 
to  which  those  ideas,  which  it  must  be  allowed  he  possessed, 
could  be  referred,  this  went  to  overturn  his  theory,  since  it 
showed  that  we  had  some  ideas   which  could  not  be  found 
to  originate  in  or  be  copied  from  any  previous  impressions, 
instead  of  his  theory  subverting  the  doctrine  of  causation;  he 
very  adroitly  shifts  the  subject,  and  merges  this  question  in 
the  discussion  of  two  interesting  points:   first,  for  what  rea- 
son we  pronounce  it  necessary  that  every  thing  whose  exist- 
ence has  a  beginning  should  also  have  a  cause?     Secondly, 
why  we  conclude  that  such  particular  causes  must  necessarily 
have  such  particular  effects?     This,  it  must  be  admitted,  dis- 
covers all  the  management  and  subtilty  of  an  able  sceptick; 
but  at  the  same  time  it  justifies  us  in  the  assertion,  that  the 
doctrines  of  Mr.  Hume,  so  far  from  having  sprung  out  of  the 
theory  of  Mr.  Locke,  or  any  of  the  philosophers  who   lived 


44  Opinions  of  Mr.  Hume, 

before  his  time,  is  as  much  at  variance  with  it  as  with  any 
system  that  has  been  or  ever  can  be  broached  on  this  sub- 
ject. 

As  it  will  naturally  fall  in  our  way,  at  a  future  period  of 
this  discussion,  to  prove  that   our    ideas    of  power,  active 
power,  cause  and  effect  may  be  derived  from  sensation  and 
reflection,    notwithstanding    all    that    Dr.    Reid    and    Mr. 
Hume  have   alleged  to  the  contrary;  and  to  show  in  what 
manner  we  arrive  at  the  very  important  conclusion  that  every 
effect  must  have  a  cause,  we  dismiss  the  subject  at  present 
with  remarking  that  the   doctrines   before  stated  as  held  by 
Mr.  Hume,  not  only  lead  by  inevitable  consequence  to  athe- 
ism, but  tend  also  to  invalidate,  and  utterly  to  destroy,  the 
force  of  the  method  of  reasoning  from  induction,  upon  which 
all  natural  and  experimental  science  is  founded.     "  Suppos- 
ing," says  he,  "  that  the  production  of  any  one  object  by  ano- 
ther, in   any  one   instance,  implies   a   power,    and  that  this 
power  is  connected  with  the  effect,  we  have  no  reason  to  in- 
fer that  the  same  power  still  exists,  from  the  appearance  of 
the  same  sensible  qualities.     The  appeal  to  past  experience 
decides  nothing;  and  at  the  very  utmost  can  only  prove,  that 
that  very  object  which  produced  any  other,  was  at  that  very 
instant  endowed  with  such  a  power,  but  can  never  prove  that 
the  same  power  must  continue  in  the  same  object  or  collec- 
tion of  sensible  qualities,  much  less  that  a  like  power  is  al- 
ways conjoined  to  such  sensible  qualities.     Thus,"  he   con- 
cludes, ''  not  only  our  reason  fails  us,  in  the  discovery  of  the 
intimate  connection,  between  causes  and  effects,  but  even  af- 
ter experience  has  informed  us  of  their  constant  conjunction, 
'tis  impossible  for  us  to  satisfy  ourselves  by  our  reason  why 
we  should  extend  that  experience  beyond  those  particular  in- 
stances which  have  fallen  under  our  observation." 

Thus,  while  with  one  hand,  he  would  strike  away  the 
foundation  upon  which  rests  the  proof  of  the  existence  of 
God,  with  the  other  he  would  overthrow  the  certainty  of  all 


On  Cause  and  Effect.  45 

those  sciences  which   consist,  to  use  the  language  of  Lord 
Qacon,  in  the  interpretation  of  nature.     All  those    sciences 
rest  the  certaintj'  of  their  principles  upon  the  ground  of  the 
stability  of  the  constitution,  and  order  of  nature,  and  upon 
the  uniformity  and  permanence    of  her   laws;    while    Mr. 
Hume  informs  us  that  we  have  no  reason  to  draw  any  infer- 
ence from  our  own  experience  concerning  the  past  or  future. 
If  this  part  of  Mr,  Hume's  doctrine  be  true,  we  have  no  rea- 
son to  conclude,  because   we  have  ascertained  by  a  just  in- 
duction that  the  united  influence  of  the  Sun  and  Moon  oc- 
casions the  ebbing  and  flowing  of  the  tides  to-day,  that  the 
same  influence  will  produce  that  result    to-morrow;  because 
bodies  now  gravitate  towards  the  earth,  and  the  Planets  to- 
wards the  Sun,  they  will  do  so  in  future;  in  a  word,  because 
the  Sun  rises  and  sets  to-day,  and  has  always  risen  and  set 
every  twenty-four  hours,  since  the  Creation,  it  will  rise  and 
set  to-morrow.     Into   such  extravagancies  and  absurdities 
are  men  driven  by  the  wanton  spirit  of  scepticism.     And  yet 
this  frivolous,  and  flimsy  disquisition  has  been  dignified  with 
the  title  of  profound  reasoning,  and  acute  metaphysicks.     It 
forms  a  part  of  the  task  we  have  assigned  ourselves   to  de- 
tect its  fallacy,   and  exhibit  the   force  and   certainty  of  that 
part  of  our  knowledge  which  rests  upon  experience  or  the  in- 
ductive method  of  reasoning.     We  proceed,  therefore,  with- 
out further  delay  to  the  opinions  of  the  remaining  authors 
upon  the  subject  of  cause  and  effect. 


CHAPTER  V. 
The  opinions  of  other  authors  upon  Cause  and  Effect. 

Dr.  Priestley,  in  speaking  upon  the  subject  of  cause  and  ef- 
fect, says,  "  a  cause  cannot  be  defined  to  be  any  thing  but 
such  previous  circumstances  as  are  constantly  followed  by  a 
certain  effect,  the  constancy  of  the  results  making  us  con- 
clude that  there  must  be  a  sufficient  reason  in  the  nature  of 
the  things  why  it  should  be  produced  in  those  circumstan- 
ces." If  by  the  expression,  sufficient  reason  in  the  nature  of 
the  thing,  be  meant,  as  no  doubt  is  meant,  a  power  or  effi- 
ciency in  the  cause  to  produce  such  results,  we  see  no  room 
for  objection  against  this  definition,  but  that  it  is  couched  in 
language  rather  inaccurate,  when  previous  circumstances  are 
placed  in  the  same  category  with  thing  or  cause,  and  that  it 
does  not  furnish  an  example  in  which  that  author  has  ex- 
pressed himself  with  his  usual  perspicuity  and  precision  of 
style. 

Mr.  Hume's  doctrine  appears  to  have  shed  a  baneful  in- 
fluence upon  the  Scottish  school  of  metaphysicks,  most  of  the 
writers  of  that  school  discovering  in  their  productions  some 
tincture  of  his  opinions.  Whether  it  be  that  Dr.  Reid,  from 
frequent  perusal  of  the  works  of  that  celebrated  sceptick,  and 
from  that  admiration  of  his  genius  which  he  takes  frequent 
opportunities  to  display,  even  while  combatting  his  errors, 
was  at  first  drawn  insensibly  into  the  vortex  of  that  influ- 
ence which  the  principles  of  Mr.  Hume  evidently  obtained 
in  his  native  country;  or  whether  the  Dr.  in  his  earlier  pro- 
ductions, had  not  as  yet,  (as  he  acknowledges  to  have  been 
the  case  in  reference  to  the  immaterialism  of  Bishop  Berke- 
ley) seen  those  ulterior  consequences  that  result  from  them, 
certain  it  is,  that  in  his  treatise  upon  the   human  mind,  the 


48  Opinions  of  other  Authors- 

first  and  most  crude  of  his  publications,  he  has  not  only 
adopted  some  of  the  opinions  but  the  very  language  of  Mr. 
Hume,  relative  to  cause  and  effect.*  "  What  we  call  natu- 
ral causes,  "  says  he,  "  might  with  more  propriety  be  called 
natural  signs;  and  what  we  call  effects,  the  things  signified. 
The  causes  have  no  proper  efficiency  or  causality,  as  far  as 
we  know:  and  all  that  we  can  certainly  affirm,  is,  that  nature 
hath  established  a  constant  conjunction  between  them  and 
the  things  called  their  effects,  and  hath  given  to  mankind  a 
disposition  to  observe  their  connections,  to  confide  in  their 
continuance,  and  to  make  use  of  them  for  the  improvement 
of  our  knowledge  and  increase  of  our  power."  Again  he 
expresses  himself  to  the  same  purport.  "  f  For  effects  and 
causes  in  the  operations  of  nature  mean  nothing  but  signs 
and  the  things  signified  by  them;  we  perceive  no  proper 
causality  or  efficiency  in  any  natural  cause,  but  only  a  con- 
nection established  by  the  course  of  nature  between  it  and 
what  is  called  its  effect."  This,  it  will  be  perceived  is  pre- 
cisely the  language  of  Mr.  Hume,  and  as  far  as  the  struc- 
ture and  operations  of  the  physical  world  are  concerned,  to 
all  intents  and  purposes,  his  doctrine.  But  how  are  we  to 
reconcile  these  views  of  this  matter  to  the  following  passage, 
as  well  as  others  which  will  be  afterwards  adduced. :|:  "  The 
chain  of  natural  causes,"  says  Dr.  Reid, '"'  has  not  unfitly  been 
compared  to  a  chain  hanging  down  from  Heaven;  a  link  that 
is  discovered  supports  the  link  below  it,  but  it  must  itself  be 
supported;  and  that  which  supports  it  must  itself  be  suppor- 
ted, until  we  come  to  the  first  link  which  is  supported  by 
the  throne  of  the  Almighty.  For  every  natural  cause  must 
have  a  cause  until  we  ascend  to  the  first  cause  which  is  un- 
caused and  operates  not  by  necessity,  but  by  will."  Profes- 
sor Stewart  has  remarked  an  inconsistency  between  this  and 

*  Chap.  5.  sect,  third.  Inquiry  concerning^  the  human  mind. 
f  See  chap.  6.  sect  24.    Inquiry  concerning  the  human  mind. 
I  See  Essay  2.  chap.  6,  vol.  1.     Intellectual  and  active  powers. 


upon  Cause  and  Effect'  49 

the  language  previously  and  subsequently  held  by  the  same 
writer,  although  unfortunately  for  the  discernment  and  reputa- 
tion of  that  author,  as  we  shall  see  afterwards,  he  has  stop- 
ped short  in  the  crude  and  less  digested  opinions  of  his  mas- 
ter and  repudiated  the  more  sound  conclusions  into  which  he 
was  occasionally  drawn  by  the  force  of  truth.*    "  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  reconcile  the  approbation  here  bestowed  on  the  above 
similitude,"  says  he,  "  with   the  excellent  and  profound   re- 
marks on  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  which  occur  in  other 
parts  of  Dr.  Reid's  works."    But  we  affirm  that  it  is  not  only 
difficult  to   reconcile  the   doctrine   taught   in   the  one   case, 
when  it  said   that  causes  and   effects,   imply  nothing  more 
than  signs  and  the  things  signified  by  them,  and  that  causes, 
as  far  as  we  know,  possess  no  proper  causality  or  efficiency; 
with  that  which  is  alleged  in  the  other  case,  when   the  con- 
nection between  natural  causes  and  effects,  is  compared  to  a 
chain  hanging  down  from  Heaven;  and  when  it  is  said  that 
every  natural  cause,  must  have  a  cause;  but  that  the  two  re- 
presentations of  the  subject  are  in  direct  and  irreconcileable 
contradiction  to  each  other.     For,  if  according  to  the  above 
representation,  between   any   one  effect  in  the   natural  world 
and  the  Creator  there  be  any  chain  of  causes  or  any  single 
cause  forming  a  link  in  that  chain,  that  cause  must  contain 
within  itself  a  power  or  efficiency  to  produce  that  effect,  upon 
the  principles   of  the  Dr.  himself,  who  again  and   again,  de- 
clares, what  all  but  atheists  admit,  that  for  every  effect  In  na- 
ture there  must  be  an  adequate  or  efficient  cause.     The  Su- 
preme Being  must  either  be  the  immediate  operating  cause 
of  every  event  in  the   physical  world,  or  he  must  communi- 
cate to  those  natural  causes  intervening  between  him  and  the 
effects,   a   force,   power,    or   efficacy,   adequate    to    produce 
those  effects.     Thus  is  it  evident  that  the  Dr.  in  one  part  of 
his  works,    maintains  a   doctrine  in   direct   hostility  to  that 
which  is  held  in  another. 

*  See  note  N.  to  vol.  2.  On  philosophy  of  the  human  mind. 


5©  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

But  let  us  contemplate  this  matter  in  another  light.  We 
are  told  that  what  we  call  natural  causes,  might  with  more 
propriety  be  called  natural  signs,  and  what  we  call  effects  the 
things  signified.  Let  us  put  this  mode  of  speaking  to  the 
test,  and  see  what  advantage  to  philosophy  re  likely  to  accrue 
from  the  change  of  phraseology.  When  wax  is  melted  in 
the  sun,  according  to  ordinary  methods  of  speech,  heat  in 
the  sun's  rays  is  said  to  be  the  cause,  and  the  efficient 
cause  too,  and  the  melting  of  the  wax,  is  called  the  effect; 
but  we  are  told  by  our  philosopher,  that  ths  heat  would 
with  more  propriety  be  denominated  the  sign,  and  the  melt- 
ing of  the  wax  the  thing  signified.  In  like  manner  when 
lightning  rends  the  oak,  the  electrick  fluid  is  the  sign,  and 
the  rending  of  the  oak  the  thing  signified.  This  phrase- 
ology approaches  so  nearly  to  the  jargon  of  the  schools,  and 
is  so  little  comprehensible,  that  in  despair  of  obtaining  any 
instruction  from  such  a  representation  of  things  or  penetra- 
ting into  the  motives  that  led  to  the  proposal  for  such  a 
change  of  language,  we  set  ourselves  forward  in  quest  of  an 
explanation,  and  to  our  utter  astonishment  we  find  that  this 
mode  of  expression  is  attempted  to  be  justified  by  the  au- 
thority of  Lord  Bacon,  who  denominates  the  true  method  of 
investigating  nature,  that  method  in  which  after  a  full  and 
complete  collection  of  facts,  we  ascend  to  the  great  maxims 
of  science,  an  interpretation  of  nature,  which  is  regarded  as 
equivalent  to  the  expressions  interpretation  of  signs,  "  The 
great  lord  Verulam,"  says  the  Dr.  "  had  a  perfect  comprehen- 
sion of  this,  when  he  called  it  an  interpretation  of  nature."* 
Strange  that  a  beautifully  figurative  expression  should  have 
been  soegregiously  misunderstood  and  so  grossly  perverted. 

Bnt  to  return  to  our   subject.     We  are  informed  that  na- 
tural causes  have  "  no  proper  causality  or  efficiency  in  them, 
as  far  as  we  know,  and  that  all  we  can  certainly  affirm,  is, 
that  nature  hath  established  a  constant  conjunction  between 
*  See  chap.  5.  sect,  third.     On  the  human  mind. 


upon  Cause  and  Eff'ect.  51 

them  and  the  things  called  their  effects."  And  yet  after- 
wards we  find  Dr.  Reid  reprehending  Mr.  Hume  for  utter- 
ing the  same  language  and  inculcating  the  same  doctrine,  to 
which  in  this  and  other  parts  of  his  essays  he  gives  his  deci- 
ded sanction, "  Mr.  Hume,"  says  he, "  maintains  that  the  only 
notion  of  a  cause  is  something  prior  to  the  effect,  which  ex- 
perience has  shown  to  be  constantly  conjoined  to  it.  He 
seems  to  reason  justly  from  his  definition  of  a  cause  when  he 
maintains  that  any  thing  may  be  the  cause  of  any  thing, 
since  priority  and  constant  conjunction  are  all  that  can  be 
conceived  in  the  notion  of  a  cause."  Now,  in  what  does 
Mr.  Hume's  account  of  a  cause  differ  from  that  which  Dr. 
Reid  has  given  in  the  passages  before  quoted  from  him,  in 
which  he  boldly  asserts  that  "  there  is  no  proper  causality  or 
efficiency  in  any  cause,  as  far  as  we  know,  and  that  all  we 
can  certainly  affirm,  is,  that  nature  hath  established  a  con- 
stant conjunction  between  them  and  the  things  called  their 
effects?" 

I  am  aware,  that  it  may  be  answered,  and  justly  too,  that 
Dr.  Reid  meant  this  doctrine  as  propounded  by  him  to  ap- 
ply solely  to  the  events  of  the  natural  world,  and  had  no  re- 
lation to  what  are  properly  denominated  efficient  causes,  in 
which  the  energies  nf  mind  are  always  presupposed  to  be  ex- 
erted. Although  this  explanation  would  not  relieve  his  doc- 
trine from  the  charge  of  inconsistency  which  has  been  shown 
to  lie  against  it,  as  expounded  by  him,  yet  the  question  may 
then  be  asked,  why  not  qualify  his  reprehension  of  Mr, 
Hume,  and  show  that  his  doctrine  was  only  partly  true,  but 
could  not  be  supported  in  the  extent  to  which  he  wished  to 
apply  it?  This  would  have  been  but  fair  and  honourable 
dealing,  and  commendable  conduct  even  towards  a  sceptick. 
and  atheist. 

The  fact  is,  that  what  we  have  to  complain  of  in  the  works 
of  Dr.  Reid,  is,  not  that  they  do  not  contain  a  considerable 
portion  of  sound  learning,  judicious  observations  and  occa- 


52  Opinions-  of  other  Authors 

sionally  profound  reflections;  but  that  he  has  not  been  suffi- 
ciently attentive  to  systematise  his  ideas  and  digest  and  con- 
dense his  views.  Essay  after  essay  is  poured  out  upon  us, 
in  which  the  same  subject  is  recurred  to,  the  same  things  re- 
peated, and  when  we  supposed  that  we  had  fully  ascertained 
the  opinions  of  the  author,  some  additional  speculations  are 
indulged  that  again  throw  us  back  into  total  darkness  as  to 
his  opinions  and  put  our  understandings  to  the  utmost  »est 
to  reconcile  them  with  what  he  had  previously  taught.  Upon 
the  point  now  under  discussion  of  cause  and  effect,  I  have 
to  regret  that  after  a  diligent  perusal  of  the  several  portions 
of  his  works  which  bear  relation  to  it,  which  are,  as  usual, 
very  numerous  and  prolix,  I  am  unable  to  discover  that 
clearness  of  conception,  coherence  and  consistency  of  views 
and  luminous  exposition  of  doctrine,  which  so  eminently  dis- 
tinguish the  writings  of  Locke,  Clarke,  Des  Cartes  and 
Mallebranche,  those  lights  of  moral  science.  In  order  to  let 
each  author  speak  for  himself,  I  am  compelled  to  fill  these 
pages  with  more  frequent  and  detailed  quotations  than  I 
could  have  desired.  This,  however,  is  an  evii  which  is  una- 
voidable, if  we  wish  to  ascertain  with  accuracy  the  pro- 
gress which  the  science  of  the  human  mind  has  already 
made,  to  arrive  at  any  definite  conclusions  in  it,  or  that  it 
should  be  cultivated  with  success  in  future,  and  make  any 
further  advances  towards  that  perfection  which  has  been  at- 
tained in  natural  philosophy. 

In  Dr.  Reid's  essays*upon  the  "intellectual  and  active  pow- 
ers," he  undertakes  to  illustrate  what  is  meant  by  giving  a 
solution  of  any  phenomenon  in  nature.  After  remarking 
that  it  is  a  dictate  of  common  sense,  that  the  causes  which 
we  assign  of  appearances  should  be  both  true  and  sufficient 
to  explain  them,  (and  by  the  by,  why  should  we  talk  of 
causes  being  sufficient  to  explain  appearances,  if  as  this  au- 
thor we  have  seen  maintains  there  be  no  proper  efficiency  or 
sufficiency  in  them,  but  they  are  to  be  regarded  merely  as 


upon  Cause  and  Effect.  53 

signs)  he  proceeds — "  That  those  who  are  less  accustomed 
to  inquiries  into  the  causes  of  natural  appearances,  may  bet- 
ter understand  what  it  is  to  show  the  cause  of  such  appear- 
ances or  to  account  for  them;  I  shall  borrow  a  plain  in- 
stance of  a  phenomenon  or  appearance,  of  which  a  full  and 
satisfactory  account  has  been  given — The  phenomenon  is  this: 
That  a  stone  or  heavy  body,  falling  from  a  height,  continual- 
ly increases  its  velocity  as  it  descends;  so  that  if  it  acquire 
a  certain  velocity  in  one  second  of  time,  it  will  have  twice 
that  velocity  at  the  end  of  two  seconds,  and  so  on  in  pro- 
portion to  the  time.  This  accelerated  velocity  in  the  stone 
falling,  must  have  been  observed  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  but  the  first  person,  as  far  as  we  know,  who  account- 
ed for  it  in  a  philosophical  manner,  was  the  famous  Gallileo, 
after  innumerable  false  and  fictitious  accounts  had  been  given 
of  it.  He  observed  that  bodies  once  put  in  motion,  con- 
tinued that  motion  with  the  same  velocity  and  in  the  same 
direction  until  they  be  stopped  or  retarded,  or  have  the  di- 
rection of  their  motion  altered  by  some  force  impressed 
upon  them.  He  observed  also,  that  gravity  acts  constantly 
and  equally  upon  a  body,  and  therefore,  will  give  equal  de- 
grees of  velocity  to  a  body  in  equal  times.  From  these 
principles  which  are  known  from  experience  to  be  fixed  laws 
of  nature,  Gallileo  showed  that  heavy  bodies  must  descend 
with  a  velocity  uniformly  accelerated  as  by  experience  they 
are  found  to  do. 

We  may  here  observe  that  the  causes  assigned  of  this  phe- 
nomenon are  two;  first  <hat  bodies  once  put  in  motion  retain 
their  velocity  and  their  direction  until  they  are  changed  by 
some  force  impressed  upon  them;  secondly,  that  the  weight 
or  gravitation  of  a  body  is  always  the  same.  These  are  laws 
of  nature,  confirmed  by  universal  experience,  and  therefore 
are  not  feigned  but  true  causes — then  they  are  precisely  ade- 
quate to  the  effect  ascribed  to  them;  they  must  necessarily 
produce  that  very  motion  in  descending  bodies  which  we  find 


54  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

to  take  place,  and  neither  more  nor  less.  The  account,  there- 
fore, given  of  the  phenomenon  is  just  and  philosophical." 

It  ought  likewise,  to  be  observed,  proceeds  the  Dr.,  that  the 
causes  assigned  of  this  phenomenon,  are  things  of  which  we 
can  assign  no  cause.  Why  bodies  once  put  in  motion  con- 
tinue to  move;  why  bodies  constantly  gravitate  towards  the 
earth  with  the  same  force,  no  man  has  been  able  to  show. 
These  are  facts  confirmed  by  universal  experience,  and  they 
must  no  doubt  have  a  cause,  but  their  cause  is  unknown,  and 
we  call  them  laws  of  nature,  because  we  know  no  cause  of 
them,  but  the  will  of  the  Supreme  Being. 

But  may  we  not  attempt  to  find  the  cause  of  gravitation, 
and  of  other  phenomena  which  we  call  laws  of  nature?  No 
doubt  we  may. —  We  know  not  the  limit  which  has  been  set 
to  human  knowledge,  and  our  knowledge  of  the  works  of 
God  can  never  be  carried  too  far.  But  supposing  gravitation 
to  be  accounted  for  by  an  etherial  elastic  medium,  for  instance, 
this  can  only  be  done  by  proving  the  existence  and  elasticity 
of  this  medium,  and  secondly,  by  showing  that  this  medium 
must  necessarily  produce  that  gravitation,  which  bodies  are 
known  to  have;  until  this  be  done  gravitation  is  not  account- 
ed for,  nor  is  its  cause  known.  The  chain  of  natural  causes 
has  not  unfitly  been  compared  ""  to  a  chain  hanging  down  from 
heaven,  &c."* 

This  account  of  the  solution  of  a  phenomenon  in  nature  is, 
in  substance,  correct,  and  given  upon  those  principles  which 
we  wish  to  establish;  but  at  the  same  time,  it  must  be  admit- 
ted altogether  inconsistent  with  the  doctrine  previously  and 
subsequently  held  by  the  same  author.  What  we  have  to 
complain  of  in  this  passage  is  not  the  doctrine  attempted  to 
be  inculcated,  but  the  very  vague  and  confused  use  of  terms. 
In  one  place,  he  says,  the  causes  assigned  for  this  phenome- 
non are  laws  of  nature  confirmed  by   universal   experience, 

*  See  Essay  2.  ch.  6.  latellectiial  and  active  power. 


upon  Cause  and  Effect.  35 

and  therefore  not  feigned  but  true  causes.  In  another,  these 
are  facts  confirmed  by  universal  experience  and  we  call  them 
laws  of  nature,  because  we  know  no  cause  of  them.  Here 
what  were  before  denominated  causes  and  laws  of  nature, 
are  now  denominated  facts.  Again:  May  we  not  attempt  to 
find  the  cause  of  gravitation  and  of  other  phenomena  which 
we  call  laws  of  nature.  Here  laws  of  nature  before  colled 
causes  and  facts  are  represented  to  be  phenomena.  Do  the 
terms,  then,  cause,  facts,  phenomena,  and  laws  of  nature,  all 
signify  the  same  thing?  Is  there  any  prospect  of  our  arriv- 
ing at  any  thing  like  a  just  philosophy,  until  we  learn  more 
precisely  and  accurately  to  affix  steady  significations  to  our 
terms?  Upon  the  principles  before  laid  down,  the  account 
of  the  solution  furnished  by  Galliieo  of  that  phenomenon  in 
nature  is  extremely  simple  and  intelligible.  The  accelerated 
motion  of  falling  bodies  when  perceived  by  the  spectator  is 
the  fact,  appearance,  effect  or  phenomenon.  Galliieo  sets 
himself  to  work  to  afford  a  solution  of  it.  He  soon  finds 
that  it  must  be  referred  to  the  operation  of  that  great  princi- 
ple, cause,  or  agent  which  occasions  attraction,  and  which  is 
admitted  to  be  unknown.  The  object  of  his  next  inquiry  is 
to  determine  the  law  or  laws  by  which  this  principle  acts 
upon  falling  bodies.  Upon  examining  the  matter,  he  dis- 
covers, that  from  that  known  property  of  bodies,  their  vis 
inertige,  it  necessarily  results  that  when  once  put  into  motion, 
they  must  retain  their  velocity  and  direction  until  these  are 
changed  by  some  other  force  impressed  upon  them.  He  dis- 
covers also  from  experience  and  observation,  that  the  un- 
known cause  which  occasions  the  gravitation  of  bodies  acts 
upon  them  with  the  same  force  at  different  distances.  Frony 
these  two  premises,  derived  from  the  known  properties  of 
dead  matter  and  the  principle  which  occasions  attraction,  he 
deduces  the  inference  with  satisfactory  force  of  argument, 
that  bodies  must  descend  to  the  earth  with  velocities  uni- 
formly accelerated.     This  is  undoubtedly  a  satisfactory  so- 


^9  opinions  of  other  Authors 

lution  of  the  phenomenon  as  far  as  science  has  yet  been  able 
to  solve  it;  in  as  much  as  it  has  been  referred  to  the  opera- 
tion of  a  cause  acknowledged  to  be  both  true  and  sufficient  to 
explain  it,  and  the  law  under  which  that  cause  operates  has 
been  ascertained.  I  say  as  far  as  science  has  yet  been  able 
to  explain  it,  because  there  is  yet  one  link  in  the  chain  ac- 
knowledged to  be  undiscovered,  the  cause  of  the  attraction 
or  gravitation  of  bodies.  A  phenomenon,  therefore,  I  take 
it,  may  be  said  to  be  completely  explained  when  it  is  traced 
back  to  its  cause,  and  the  law  under  which  that  cause  acted 
in  producing  it,  is  ascertained.  It  is  partially  explained,  al- 
though it  may  be  sufficiently  for  all  practical  purposes,  when 
the  cause  has  been  developed,  although  the  law  under  which 
it  acts  remains  unknown,  or  when  the  laws  of  its  action  have 
been  unfolded,  though  the  cause  remains  unknown. 

But  if  we  have  to  complain  of  Dr.  Reid's  ambiguous  and 
undibtinguishing  use  of  his  words,  what  shall  we  say  of  those 
inconsistencies  with  himself,  which  mav  be  shown  by  com- 
paring his  different  productions  upon  this  subject  with  each 
other.''  Take  the  following  examples: — In  a  paragraph  before 
taken  from  him,  he  says, "  these  are  laws  of  nature  confirmed 
by  universal  experience,  and  therefore,  are  not  feigned  but 
true  causes."  To  the  same  purpoi-t  he  asserts  in  his  essay 
upon  efficient  causes,*  "  Natural  philosophers  who  think  ac- 
curately, have  a  precise  meaning  to  the  terms  they  use  in 
the  science;  and  when  they  pretend  to  show  the  cause  of  any 
phenomenon  in  nature,  they  mean  by  the  cause  a  law  of  na- 
ture, of  which  that  phenomenon  is  a  necessary  consequence." 
Oppose  to  these  passages  the  following  written  by  the  same 
author  on  the  ambiguity  of  words.  |In  compliance  with 
custom,  or  perhaps  to  gratify  the  avidity  of  knowing  the 
causes  of  things,  we  call  the  laws  of  nature,  causes  and  active 

*  Essay  1,  ch.  6,  vol.  2.  Intellectual  and  active  powers. 
i  Sec  Essay  4,  ch.  3,  vol.  2.  Intellectual  and  active  powers. 


upon  Cause  and  Effect.  St 

powers.  So  we  speak  of  the  powers  of  gravitation,  of  mag- 
netism, of  electricity.  We  call  them  causes  of  many  of  the 
phenomena  of  nature;  and  such  they  are  esteemed  by  the  ig- 
norant and  half-leafned.  But  those  of  juster  discernment  see 
that  laws  of  nature  are  not  agents.  1  hey  are  not  endowed 
with  active  power,  and  therefore  cannot  be  causes  in  the  pro- 
per sense.  They  are  only  the  rules  according  to  which  the 
unknown  cause  acts."  First,  we  see  that  laws  of  nature  are 
represented  to  be  not  feigned  but  true  and  adequate  causes; 
next,  laws  of  nature  are  supposed  only  to  be  causes,  but  can- 
not be  such  as  they  are  not  agents  or  endowed  with  active 
power.  They  are  only  the  rules  according  to  which  the  un- 
known cause  acts.  Again — "  Natuval  philosophers  who  think 
accurately  have  a  precise  meaning  to  the  terms  they  use  in 
the  science,  and  they  mean  by  the  word  cause  a  law  of  na- 
ture of  which  a  phenomenon  is  a  necessary  consequence;"  at 
the  next  moment  we  are  told  that  "  the  laws  of  nature  are 
esteemed  causes  only  by  the  ignorant  and  half-learned,  but 
those  of  juster  discernment  perceive  that  they  are  not."  Nor 
is  this  all.  In  one  place  the  question  is  asked,  "  inay  we  not 
attempt  to  find  the  cause  of  gravitation  or  of  other  pheno- 
mena which  we  call  laws  of  nature?"  The  answer  is,  no 
doubt  we  may.  We  known  not  the  limit  which  has  been  set 
to  human  knowledge,  and  our  knowledge  of  the  works  of 
God  can  never  be  carried  too  far.  The  chain  of  natural 
causes  has  not  unfitly  been  compared  to  a  "chain  hanging  down 
from  heaven.  Every  natural  cause  must  have  a  cause,  until 
we  ascend  to  the  first  cause  which  is  uncaused  smd  operates 
not  by  necessity  but  by  will."  In  another  passage  are  con- 
tained these  sentiments.  "  Those  philosophc  rs  who  have 
had  the  justest  views  of  things  as  well  as  the  weakness  of 
human  understanding,  giving  up  the  pretence  of  discovering 
the  causes  of  the  operations  of  nature,  have  applied  them- 
selves to  discover  by  observation  and  experiment,  the  rules 
or  laws  of  nature  according  to  which  the  phenomena  of  na- 

H 


58  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

ture  are  produced."  And  again — ^"  We  deceive  ourselves,  if 
we  conceive  that  we  can  point  out  the  real  efficient  cause  of 
any  one  phenomenon  in  nature."  First,  we  are  told  that  we 
may  attempt  to  find  the  cause  of  gravitation  or  of  any  other 
phenomena,  since  we  know  not  the  limit  which  is  set  to  the 
human  mind,  and  our  knowledge  of  the  works  of  the  Creator 
cannot  he  carried  too  far,  and  every  natural  cause  must  have 
a  cause  until  we  ascend  to  the  first  cause:  At  the  next  mo- 
ment, we  are  informed  *'  that  we  deceive  ourselves,  if  we  sup- 
pose that  we  can  point  out  the  real  efficient  cause  of  any  phe- 
nomenon, and  that  philosophers  of  the  justest  discernment, 
giving  up  the  pretence  of  discovering  the  causes  of  things, 
have  applied  themselves  to  discover  by  experiment  and  ob- 
servation the  laws  of  nature,  according  to  which  the  pheno- 
mena of  nature  are  produced?"  O  admirabilem  licentiam,  to 
indulge  the  language  of  Cicero,  et  miserabilem  inscientiam 
disserendi!  Si  enim  aliquid  in  eloquendo  nee  verum,  nee 
falsum  est,  certe  id  verum  non  est.  Quod  autem  verum  non 
est,  qui  potest  non  falsum  esse?  Aut  quod  falsum  non  est, 
qui  potest  non  verum  esse?  Out  of  such  confusion  it  is  im- 
possible to  elicit  order.  If  natural  causes  are  considered  as 
causes  at  all,  let  them  be  regarded  as  true  and  real  causes; 
and  if  they  be  not,  let  the  term  be  disclaimed  and  exploded 
from  the  pursuits  of  science. 

In  order,  however,  to  give  the  fairest  construction  possi- 
ble to  the  language  of  Dr.  Reid,  I  shall  state  what  appear  to 
me  to  be  the  principles  which  he  aims  to  establish,  although 
he  no  where  fully  explains  himself;  and  then  endeavour  to 
test  the  truth  of  those  principles. 

As  to  the  origin  of  our  idea  of  power,  active  power,  cause 
and  effect,  which  are  inseparably  connected  together;  he  is 
evidently  of  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Hume  in  believing  that  it 
cannot  be  explained  upon  the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke,  not 
being  derivable  either  from  sensation  or  reflection.  He  main- 
tains that  the  maxim  for  every  effect  there  must  be  an  effi- 


upon  Cause  and  Effect,  59 

cient  cause,  is  not  founded  either  upon  reason  or  experience, 
but  is  to  be  traced  to  an  original  or  instinctive  principle  in 
the  constitution  of  our  nature.  Finally,  he  asserts  that  mind 
alone  can  possess  active  power,  the  Supreme  Being  or  Spirits 
commissioned  by  him  can  be  regarded  as  efficient  causes;  and 
of  consequence  the  business  of  natural  philosophy,  is  not  to 
trace  real  causes  and  effects,  but  merely  to  mark  the  constant 
conjunctions  of  objects  or  trace  the  connections  between  the 
signs  and  the  things  signified  by  them.*  "  With  regard  to 
the  phenomena  of  nature,"  says  he,  "  the  important  end  of 
knowing  their  causes,  besides  gratifying  our  curiosity,  is,  that 
we  may  know  when  to  expect  them,  or  how  to  bring  them 
about.  This  is  very  often  of  real  importance  in  life;  and  this 
purpose  is  served,  by  knowing  what,  by  the  course  of  na- 
ture, goes  before  them  and  is  connected  with  them;  and  this, 
therefore,  we  call  the  cause  of  such  a  phenomenon." 

First,  as  to  his  assertion,  that  the  t)rigin  of  our  idea  of 
power,  active  power,  &c.  cannot  be  explained  upon  the  prin- 
ciples of  Mr.  Locke,  not  being  referable  either  to  sensation 
or  reflection,  but  to  be  derived  from  some  source  different  from 
these:  1  shall  not  now  stop  to  refute  this  objection,  as  it  will 
naturally  present  itself  to  consideration  when  i  shall  under- 
take to  vindicate  from  exception  that  fundamental  point  of 
Mr.  Locke's  system,  in  which  he  maintains,  in  my  opinion 
with  unanswerable  force  of  argument,  that  all  our  simple 
ideas  are  derived  through  the  inlets  of  sensation  and  reflec- 
tion. 1  trust  1  shall  be  able  to  show  that  no  instance  yet 
enumerated  by  Dr.  Reid  forms  a  valid  exception  to  the  the- 
ory of  the  English  metaphysician;  and  until  some  contradic- 
tory facts  are  alleged,  upon  the  true  principle  of  philosophis- 
ing, that  no  more  causes  of  things  are  to  be  admitted  than 
are  both  true  and  sufficient  to  explain  the  appearances,  it  ought 
to  be  received  as  an  established  maxim.     As  Dr.  Reid  ad- 

*  See  Essay  1  ch.  6,  vol.  2.  Intellectual  and  active  powers. 


69  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

mits  that  we  have  ideas  of  power,  active  power  and  efficient 
caust's,  although  he  ascribes  them  with  preposterous  absur- 
dity rather  to  an  inference  of  reason,  than  to  the  simple  per- 
ceptions of  the  mind:  this  concession  is  sufficient  for  our  pre- 
sent purpose,  as  it  places  this  part  of  metaphysical  science 
upon  a  different  ground  from  that  on  which  it  was  placed  by 
Mr.  Hume. 

The  second  point  maintained  though  rather  obscurely  by 
Dr.  Reid  is,  that  the  maxim  so  universally  received  in  phi- 
losophy, for  every  effect  there  must  be  an  efficient  cause,  is 
not  derived  either  from  reason  or  experience,  but  is  to  be 
traced  to  an  original  or  instinctive  principle  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  our  nature.  "  A  train  of  events,"  says  he,  "  follow- 
ing one  another  ever  so  regularly,  could  never  lead  us  to  a 
notion  of  a  cause,  if  we  had  not  from  our  constitution  a  con- 
victi(jn  of  the  necessity  of  a  cause  to  every  event."  We  find, 
in  like  manner,  professor  Stewart  interpreting  and  adopting 
the  sentiment  of  his  master,  when  he  says,  *•'  if  this  part  of 
his  system  (Mr.  Hume'sj  be  admitted;  and  if,  at  the  same 
time,  we  admit  the  authority  of  that  principle  of  the  mind, 
which  leads  us  to  refer  every  change  to  an  efficient  cause," 
&c.  Again  he  remarks.  "  in  stating  the  argument  for  the  ex- 
istence of  the  deity,  several  modern  philosophers  have  been 
at  pains  to  illustrate  that  law  of  our  nature,  which  leads  us 
to  refer  every  change  we  perceive  in  the  universe,  to  the 
operation  of  an  efficient  cause.  This  reference  is  not  the 
result  of  reasoning  but  necessarily  accompanies  the  percep- 
tion, so  as  to  render  it  impossible  for  us  to  see  the  change 
without  feeling  a  conviction  of  the  operation  of  some  cause 
by  which  it  was  produced."  Dr.  Keid,  as  will  be  found  in 
his  essay  upon  active  power,  declares,  that  power  being  an 
oi)eration  neither  of  n/Atter  nor  mind  cannot  be  an  object 
either  of  sensation  or  consciousness,  but  is  an  inference  made 
by  reason  from  witnessing  the  exercise  of  our  powers;  and 
vet  we  are  here  told  that  we  have  an  original  and  instinc- 


upon  Cause  and  Effect-    ■  61 

tive  principle  which  leads  us  to  refer  every  effect  to  an  effi- 
cient cause  antecedently  to  all  reasoning  and  reflection,  al- 
though it  is  admitted,  that  without  our  having  an  idea  of 
power,  it  would  be  impossible  to  have  any  conception  of  the 
relation  between  cause  and  effect.  As  soon  as  we  see  any 
change,  we  have  a  conviction  of  the  operation  of  some  cause 
by  which  it  was  produced,  although  reason  has  afterwards  to 
go  through  her  slow  and  operose  process  in  order  to  arrive 
at  the  conclusion,  that  the  cause  must  have  power  to  produce 
the  effect.  This  is  supposing  strange  confusion  in  the  works 
of  nature.  That  must  be  a  sharp-sighted  instinct,  indeed, 
which  could  thus  rush  to  the  conclusion  that  every  event  in 
nature  must  have  a  cause,  before  it  had  ascertained  what  was 
included  in  the  idea  of  a  cause.  The  writers  who  have 
broached  this  theory  have  not  given  a  name  to  this  princi- 
ple of  our  constitution;  though  they  have  attempted  to  chris- 
ten one  no  less  disavowed  by  nature  to  be  her  offspring,  and 
no  less  contemptuously  handed  over  by  her  to  its  genuine 
parent,  a  mistaken  and  spurious  philosophy,  viz.  the  induc- 
tive principle.  We  are  informed  by  these  writers  that  man, 
instead  of  coming  out  of  the  hands  of  his  Maker,  untutored 
and  the  simple  pupil  of  nature,  in  whose  school  only  all  his 
lessons  are  to  be  learnt,  has  two  original  principles  hitherto 
unnoticed  by  philosophers,  which  make  him  at  once  acquaint- 
ed with  the  deepest  lessons  of  wisdom,  the  first  of  which  tells 
him,  that  for  every  effect  there  must  be  an  adequate  cause; 
while  the  second,  the  inductive  principle,  conducts  him  to  the 
very  profound  conclusion,  a  more  profound  one  than  Mr. 
Hume  was  ever  able  to  attain  with  all  the  metaphysical  acu- 
men that  has  been  ascribed  to  him,  that  similar  causes  will 
always  produce  similar  effects,  and  induces  him,  at  once,  an- 
tecedently to  all  experience,  to  repose  confidence  in  the  sta- 
bility of  the  order  of  nature.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been 
wiser  and  more  consonant  to  the  maxims  of  a  just  philoso- 
phy, somewhat  to  have  abridged  this  attempt  at  an  interpre- 


62  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

tation  of  nature,  and  have  resolved  these  two  principles  into 
the  inductive  principle  alone;  and  then,  like  another  Janus,  it 
might  have  been  represented  as  having  two  faces,  one  look- 
ing back  upon  the  past  and  the  other  forward  to  the  future} 
while  from  a  contemplation  of  the  past  it  might  arrive  at  the 
maxim,  that  for  every  effect  in  nature  there  must  be  an  ade- 
quate cause;  in  prospect  of  the  future,  it  might  deduce  the 
inference  that  similar  causes  will  produce  similar  effects.  It 
is  difficult  to  treat  with  seriousness  and  philosophick  gravity 
opinions  so  evidently  and  preposterously  absurd. 

Dr.  Reid  could  have  been  betrayed  into  such  a  gross  mis- 
interpretation of  nature  only  by  one  of  two  motives;  either 
from  what  I  cannot  but  regret  to  perceive  throughout  his 
works,  a  prurient  propensity  to  cavil  at  the  doctrines  of  Mr. 
Locke,  or  to  rid  himself  of  the  difficulty  in  which  Mr.  Hume 
had  involved  him  by  his  sophistry,  and  from  the  toils  of 
which  he  saw  no  other  mode  of  extrication.  In  the  one  case 
the  motive  was  unworthy  of  a  man  so  respectable  in  his  ta- 
lents and  attainments;  and  in  the  other,  it  is  to  be  remarked 
that  the  expedient  adopted  to  silence  the  scepticism  of  Mr. 
Hume  was  mistaken  and  altogether  inadmissible.  Without 
having  recourse  to  any  expedient  of  this  kind,  we  trust  we 
shall  be  able  before  we  arrive  at  the  close  oi  these  dis- 
sertations, under  the  conduct  of  so  illustrious  a  guide  as  the 
metaphysician  of  England,  to  put  into  the  hands  of  the  vota- 
ries of  metaphysical  science  a  clue  that  shall  lead  them  safe- 
ly out  of  that  dark  labyrinth  into  which  they  had  been  trans- 
lated by  Berkeley  and  Hume.  Mr.  Hume  denies  that  there 
is  any  truth  in  the  maxim,  that  whatever  begins  to  exist  must 
have  a  cause  of  its  existence,  and  endeavours  to  show  that  it 
is  neither  susceptible  of  proof,  from  reason,  intuition  or  ex- 
perience; and  when  the  brave  champion  of  scepticism  vainly 
imagines  that  he  has  successfully  silenced  all  opposition  and 
fought  his  way  to  his  conclusion.  Dr.  Reid  approaches  and 
informs  him  that  he  has  all  this  time  been  entirely  mistaken 


upon  Cause  and  Eff'ect.  63 

and  wasting  his  skill  and  prowess  to  no  useful  purpose,  as  he 
has  left  an  impregnable  fortress  in  his  rear,  for  there   is  an 
original  principle  of  our  nature,  which  without  the  aid  of  in- 
tuition, reasoning   or  experience,  leads  us  to  the   conviction 
that  for  every  event  in   nature   there  must  be   an  adequate 
cause.     Mr.  Hume  denies,  that  there  is  any  ground  for  the 
doctrine  that  similar  causes  will   invariably  produce   similar 
effects,  maintains  that  we  have   no  reason  to  draw  any  infer- 
ence concerning  the  order  of  nature  beyond  our  own  experi- 
ence, asserts  what  amounts  to  the  opinion  that  because  the 
sun  has.  risen  and  set  hitherto,  this  consideration  furnishes  no 
sufficient  argument  to  prove  that  it  will  rise  and  set  to-mor- 
row; because  fire  warms  us  now,  is  no  adequate  proof  that 
it  will  warm  us  in  future:     Dr.  Reid  relinquishing  the   con- 
test in  the  open  field,  allows  himself  vanquished  there,  but 
again  takes  refuge  in  his  fortress;  and  gives  notice  to  his  an- 
tagonist that  he  has  a  second  time  been  engaged  in  a  fruit- 
less warfare,  for  although  he  has  "  clearly  and  invincibly 
shown"  that  our  belief  in  the  stability  of  the  order  of  nature 
is  neither  grounded  upon  intuition,  upon  reasoning  or  expe- 
rience, it  is  irresistibly  inferred  from  that  luminous   instinct 
without  which  we  should  be  as  "  blind  as  bats,"  the   induc- 
tive principle.     This  it  must  be  allowed  is   a  short  road  to 
victory,  and  a  summary  mode  of  settling  philosophical  dis- 
putations. 

Of  this  inductive  principle  of  Dr.  Reid  it  will  be  our  pro- 
vince to  treat  when  we  shall  undertake  to  explain  the  method 
of  induction  of  which  lord  Bacon  was  the  proposer.  Of  this 
new  and  unchristened  instinct  by  which  we  arrive  at  the  im- 
mensely important  conclusion  that  for  every  effect  in  nature 
there  must  be  an  adequate  cause,  I  would  proceed  to  remark. 
Can  we  wish  that  any  phenomenon  of  the  human  mind  should 
be  more  satisfactorily  explained,  than  this  is  explained  upon 
the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke?  The  problem  to  be  solved  is, 
in  what  manner  do  we  arrive  at  the  maxim,  that  for  every 


64  Opinions  of  other  Authofs 

event  there  must  be  an  efficient  cause?  Accordinc;  to  the 
philosophy  of  Mr.  Locke  the  account  to  be  given  of  it  would 
be  to  the  following  purport,  though  I  believe  he  has  no  where 
attempted  an  especial  solution  of  it.  From  our  constant  ob- 
servation of  the  operation  of  bodies  upon  each  other,  by  sen- 
sation, and  of  the  operations  of  our  own  minds  and  the  in- 
fluence which  our  minds  possess  over  the  actions  of  our  bo- 
dies in  our  voluntary  exertions,  by  reflection  or  consciousness, 
we  arrive  at  ideas  of  power,  active  power,  agency,  cause  and 
efl^ect.  No  sooner  have  we  obtained  these  ideas,  than  con- 
tinuing our  observations  and  experiments  upon  the  course  of 
nature,  we  find  from  an  invariable  experience,  that  no  changes 
or  alterations  take  place  in  those  objects  with  which  we  are 
daily  conversant,  but  in  consequence  of  the  action  of  suffi- 
cient causes.  This  observation  commences,  and  this  infer- 
ence is  deduced  at  a  period  of  life  more  remote  than  that  to 
which  the  strongest  memories  extend.  Hence  from  a  com- 
plete induction  of  facts,  from  an  invariable  experience,  as  far 
as  the  imbecility  of  the  human  mind  allows  us  to  attain  to  a 
knowledge  of  causes,  we  become  deeply  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  the  maxim,  that  every  thing  which  begins  to  exist 
must  have  a  cause.  This  is  soon  strengthened  into  a  con- 
firmed opinion,  into  an  opinion  so  confirmed,  that  no  sophis- 
try or  scepticism  can  shake  or  eradicate  it. 

Is  not  this  a  philosophical  and  satisfactory  explanation  of 
the  phenomenon?  For  my  part  1  could  not  conceive  of  one 
that  bears  more  deeply  marked  upon  it  the  genuine  impress 
and  authentic  seal  of  nature  and  truth. 

The  following  observations  upon  this  subject  are  very  sin- 
gular as  coming  from  the  pen  of  an  avowed  champion  of 
theism.  "  I  know  of  only  three  or  four  arguments  in  the 
way  of  abstract  reasoning,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  "  that  have  been 
urged  by  philosophers  to  prove  that  things  which  begin  to 
exist  must  have  a  cause.  One  is  offered  by  Mr.  Hobbes. 
another  by  Dr.  Clarke,  another  by  Mr.  Locke.    Mr.  Hume, 


upon  Cause  and  Effect-  ^5 

in  his  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  has  examined  them  all,  and 
in  my  opinion  has  shown  that  they  take  for  granted  the  thing 
to  be  proved;  a  kind  of  false  reasoning,  which  men  are  very 
apt  to  fall  into  when  they  attempt  to  prove  what  is  self-evi- 
dent." 

And  could  Dr.  Reid  really  have  imagined  that  Mr.  Hume, 
in  his  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  has  fairly  met  and  refuted 
the  arguments  of  Clarke  and  Locke,  and  found  them  liable 
to  the  charge  of  that  logical  abortion,  called  a  petitio  princi- 
pii?  They  did  not  live  in  the  days  in  which  nature  put  forth 
abortive  intellectual  exertions,  and  it  was  not  compatible  with 
their  habits  to  make  them.  Let  us  bring  the  matter  to  issue 
between  Mr.  Hume  and  his  antagonists,  and  we  shall  see 
how;  well  he  is  entitled  to  the  praise  bestowed  upon  him  of 
obtaining  a  triumph  over  them.  For  our  part,  instead  of 
agreeing  with  Dr.  Reid  in  the  opinion  that  Mr.  Hume  has 
exposed  the  fallacy  of  Mr.  Locke's  and  Dr.  Clarke's  reason- 
ing, we  think  that  he  has  never  discovered  himself  able  to 
meet  it,  nor  taken  the  pains  to  comprehend  it.  We  perceive 
in  his  work  only  an  artful  attempt  to  misrepresent  and  elude 
the  force  of  their  arguments.  Thus  he  states  the  arguments 
of  Dr.  Clarke. 

The  second  argument  which  I  find  used  on  this  head, labours 
under  an  equal  difficulty.  "  Every  thing,"  'tis  said, "  musthave 
a  cause;  for  if  any  thing  wanted  a  cause,  it  would  produce  it- 
self; that  is  txist  before  it  existed,  which  is  impossible."  This 
to  be  sure,  which  is  referred  by  the  author  to  Dr.  Clarke,  it 
must  be  admitted  is  an  admirable  syllogism.  Whether  Mr. 
Hume  quoted  this  argument  from  memory,  and  supposed  at 
the  time  he  wrote  it,  that  it  was  Dr.  Clarke's,  or  whether 
with  his  usual  di^ingenuousness  and  subtilty,  he  was  willing 
to  misrepresent  and  evade  the  force  of  that  great  man's  rea- 
soning, it  is  not  easy  to  decide.  He  seems  to  have  been  per- 
fectly satisfied  if  he  could  throw  all  truth  into  a  cloud  of  un- 
certainty, and  make  his  readers  sceptics  either  by  having  re- 


66  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

course  to  fair  or  foul  means.  Certain  it  is  that  he  has  not 
understood  or  wilfully  mis-stated  the  argument  of  Dr.  Clarke 
"  Every  thing,"  'tis  said,  "  must  have  a  cause;  for  if  any 
thing  wanted  a  cause  it  would  produce  itself;  that  is  exist  be- 
fore it  existed,  which  is  impossible."  This  would  have  been 
strange  language  in  the  mouth  of  Dr.  Clarke,  who  maintains 
that  the  Deity,  although  the  cause  of  all  other  things,  exists 
without  cause.  Apply,  therefore,  the  proposition  above  as- 
sumed to  the  case  of  the  Creator.  The  Deity  exists  without 
a  cause,  and  of  consequence  must  produce  himself;  that  is 
exist  before  he  existed-  Mr.  Hume  probably  would  have 
had  no  objection  to  reducing  the  proof  of  the  self-existence 
of  the  Deity  to  such  a  manifest  absurdity,  but  the  illustrious 
Dr.  was  quite  of  a  different  turn  of  thinking,  and  had  too  much 
penetration  not  to  have  perceived  that,  by  such  a  concession, 
he  would  have  uprooted  the  whole  of  his  argument  in  de- 
monstration of  the  Being  and  attributes  of  God,  one  of  the 
most  masterly  eiforts  of  human  genius.  Dr.  Clarke,  indeed, 
does  maintain  and  justly,  the  self-existence  of  the  Deity,  but 
he  expressly  states  in  what  he  conceives  that  self-existence 
to  consist;  "  not,"  says  he,  "  in  producing  himself,  for  that  is 
an  express  contradiction,  but  in  existing  by  an  absolute  ne- 
cessity in  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself." 

Equally  false  and  unfounded  is  the  statement  given  by 
Mr.  Hume,  of  the  next  argument  which  he  refers  to  Mr. 
Locke  as  the  author;  but  which  when  rightly  understood  and 
stated  is  common  both  to  him.  Dr.  Clarke,  and  many  other 
ancient  and  modern  writers.  He  says,  that  Mr.  Locke 
maintains, "  that  whatever  is  produced  without  any  cause,  is 
produced  by  nothing,  or  in  other  words,  has  nothing  lor  its 
cause."  "  But  nothing,  can  never  be  a  cause,  no  more  than  it 
can  be  something,  or  equal  to  two  right  angles."  In  his  re- 
ply to  this,  it  is  at  once  curious,  and  disgusting  to  a  mind, 
devoted  to  the  pursuit  of  truth,  to  see  how  he  chooses  to 
subtilize,  and  darken  the  subject,  by  words  without  knowl- 


upon  Cause  and  Effects  67 

edge  and  a  foolish  play  upon  the  expression,  "  nothing  as  a 
cause;"  and  although  he  himself  allows,  that  Mr.  Locke  had 
alleged  that  it  could  no  more  be  a  cause,  than  it  could  be 
something  or  equal  to  two  right  angles;  yet  in  the  very 
wantonness  and  pruriency  of  debate,  he  chooses  to  consider 
nothing,  as  Mr.  Locke's  cause;  and  such  is  his  rooted  an- 
tipathy to  causes,  that  he  would  even  fight  with  this  sha- 
dowy form  and  exclude  it  from  the  privilege  of  becoming  a 
cause.  "  Tis  sufficient,"  says  he,"  only  to  observe,  that  when 
we  exclude  all  causes,  we  really  exclude  them,  and  neither 
suppose  nothing,  nor  the  object  itself,  to  be  the  cause  of  ex- 
istence." How  insignificant  and  unworthy  of  the  candid 
spirit  of  philosophy  are  such  subterfuges  and  shifts  to  escape 
from  the  power  of  right  reason! 

In  order  that  we  may  perceive  how  grossly  Mr.  Hume 
has  misrepresented  the  opinions  of  Locke,  and  Clarke,  and 
how  readily  Dr.  Reid  has  acceded  to  the  opinions  of  his 
countryman,  and  how  prematurely  he  has  adjudged  him  the 
palm  of  victory;  let  us  hear  those  authors  deliver  themselves 
in  their  own  person.  "  There  is  no  truth,  says  the  English 
metaphysician,  more  evident  than  that  something  must  be, 
from  eternity.  I  never  heard  of  any  one  so  unreasonable, 
or  that  would  suppose  so  manifest  a  contradiction,  as  a  time 
when  there  was  perfectly  nothing,  this  being  of  all  absurdi- 
ties the  greatest,  to  imagine  that  pure  nothing,  the  perfect 
negation  and  absence  of  all  beings,  should  ever  produce  any 
real  existence."  Mr.  Locke  considers  it  as  one  of  the  great- 
est of  all  absurdities  to  imagine,  that  pure  nothing,  the  per- 
fect negation  and  absence  of  all  being,  should  ever  produce 
any  real  existence,  and  on  this  account  Mr.  Hume  repre- 
sents him  as  saying,  that  nothing  is  a  cause,  and  with  this 
kind  of  nothing  he  feels  himself  bound  to  combat.  To  the 
same  purport  as  this  doctrine  of  Mr.  Locke,  is  that  of  Dr. 
Clarke.  He  prescribes  it  as  an  established  and  incontixjver- 
tible  truth,  that  "  whatever  exists  has  a   cause,  a  reason,  a 


68  Opiniona  of  other  Authors 

ground  ul  its  existence;   a  foundation  on  which  its  existence 
relics;  a  ground,  or  reason  why  it  doth  exist,  rather  than  not 
exist;  either  in  the  necessity   of  its   own  nature,  and  then  it 
must  have  been  of  itself  eternal,  or  in  the  will  of  some  other 
being,  and  then  that  otherbeing,  must  at  least,  in  the  order  of 
nature  and  causality,  have  existed    before  it."     Having  laid 
thus  the  deep  foundation  of  his  reasoning,  he  proceeds  upon 
this  plan.     "  Every   thing   which   exists,  must  either  have 
come  into  being,  out  of  nothing,  absolutely  without  cause,  or 
it  must  have  been  produced   by  some  external  cause,  or  it 
must  be  self- existent.   Now,  to  arise  out  of  nothing,  absolute- 
ly without  cause,  is  a  plain  contradiction.    For  to  say  a  thing 
is  produced,  and  yet  there  is  no  cause  at  all  of  that  produc- 
tion, is,  to  say  that  something  is  effected,  when  it  is  effected 
by  nothing:  that  is,   at  the  same  time  when  it  is  not  effected 
at  all."     Now,  is  this  according  to  Mr.  Hume,  making  no- 
thing a  cause,  or  as  both  he  and   Dr.   Reid  seem   willing  to 
believe  a  petitio  principii  or  begging  of  the  question?   When 
it  is  alleged,  that  to  suppose  this  world  to  have  begun  to  ex- 
ist without  a  cause  at  a  time  when  there  was  nothing,  is  to 
suppose  something  to  arise  out  of  nothing,  is  so  far  from  a 
begging  of   the  question,  that  it  furnishes  an   abstract  argu- 
ment from  the  reason    and  nature  of  things  in  confirmation 
of  the  practical  truth,  that  for  every  effect  there  must  be  a 
cause.    When  I  say,   for  every  thing  which  begins  to  exist, 
there  must  be   a  cause,  I  state  a   proposition,  the  truth   of 
which  it  is  evident  I  could  have  derived  only  from  experi- 
ence;  but  when  I    declare    that  it  is  impossible   something- 
should  arise    out    of  nothing,     I  trace  a    relation    between 
something   and  nothing,  which  is  abstract;   and  the  connec- 
tion or  disagreement  between  which  ideas,  I  should  be  able 
to  perceive,  if  the  case  were  supposed  possible,  antecedently 
to  all  experience,  as  soon  as  I  am  made  acquainted  with  the 
import  of  the  terms   made  use  of  in  the  proposition.     The 
truth  that  out  of  nothing,  something  cannot  proceed,  arise. 


upon  Cause  and  Effect.  69 

or  be  produced, is  intuitively  discerned,  and  cannot,  therefore, 
take  for  granted  any  other  proposition-,  and  more  especially 
one  which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  arrive  at  but  from  expe- 
rience and  observation  of  facts.  In  this  sense  of  the  words, 
the  celebrated  maxim  of  the  ancients,  ex  nihilo  nihil  fit,  is 
undoubtedly  just.  Notwithstanding,  therefore,  all  that  has 
been  alleged  to  the  contrary,  we  cannot  help  thinking,  that  if 
we  w«re  required  to  give  an  abstract  .argument  in  proof  of 
the  maxim,  that  for  every  effect  in  nature  there  must  be  a 
cause,  it  would  be  solid  and  satisfactory  to  say,  that  to  affirm 
any  effect  had  taken  place  without  an  adequate  cause,  is  to 
suppose  something  to  arise  out  of  nothing,  absolutely  with- 
out cause. 

By  this  time,  I  trust,  we  clearly  and  distinctly  perceive 
the  disingenuousness,  and  artifice  of  Mr,  Hume,  in  repre- 
senting Mr.  Locke  as  asserting  that  nothing  may  become 
a  cause,  and  how  well  he  is  entitled  to  the  encomiums  be- 
stowed upon  him,  of  which  mention  was  made  in  the  com- 
mencement of  this  article.  He  never  has  met  and  never 
could  fairly  have  met  the  arguments  of  Clarke  and  Locke.* 

*  Bishop  Watson,  in  his  biography  of  himself,  lately  published,  has 
given  the  following  account  of  one  of  the  events  of  his  college  life.  "  I  had 
not  been  six  months  in  College  before  a  circumstance  happened  to  me," 
says  he,  "  trivial  in  itself,  and  not  fit  to  be  noticed,  except  that  it  had  some 
influence  on  mj  future  life,  inasmuch  as  it  gave  me  a  turn  to  metaphysical 
disquisition.  It  was  then  the  custom  in  Trinity  College  for  all  the  under- 
graduates to  attend  immediately  after  morning  prayers,  the  College  lec- 
tures at  different  tables  in  the  hall,  during  term  time.  The  lecturers  ex- 
plained to  tlieir  respective  classes  certain  books,  such  as  Puffendorf  de  Of- 
ficio hominis  et  Civis,  Clarke  on  the  Attributes,  Locke's  Essay,  Duncan's 
Logic,  itc;  and  once  a  week  the  head  lecturer  examined  all  the  students. 
The  question  put  to  TTie  by  the  head  lecturer  was — whether  Clarke  had 
demonstrated  the  absurdity  of  an  infinite  succession  of  changeable  and  de- 
pendent beings?  J  answered  with  blushing  hesitation,  non.  The  head  lec- 
turer. Brocket,  with  great  good  nature,  mingled  with  no  small  surprise,  en- 
couraged nie  to  give  my  reasons  for  thinking  so.     I  stammered  out  in  bar- 


TO  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

I  shall  conclude  this  part  of  our  subject  by  answering  the 
objections  alleged  by  Dr.  Reid  himself  against  the  doctrine, 

barous  Latin  (for  the  examination  was  in  that  language)  that  Clarke  had 
inquired  into  the  origin  of  a  series,  which,  being  from  the  supposition  eter- 
nal, could  have  no  origin;  and  into  the  first  term  of  a  series,  which,  being 
from  the  supposition  infinite,  could  have  no  first.  From  this  circumstance 
I  was  soon  cried  up,  ver}- undeservedly,  as  a  great  metaphysician." 

From  the  account  here  given  by  the  Bishop,  we  are  at  a  loss  to  deter- 
mine whether  he  considered  his  argument  against  the  principles  of  Pr. 
Clarke  valid  and  conclusive  or  not.  He  says,  indeed,  and  very  justly,  that 
it  gained  him  undeservedly  the  reputation  of  a  great  metaphysician  in  the 
College,  but  he  no  where  discovers  that  he  was  conscious  of  its  fallacy. 
Now  to  us  the  fallacy  appears  so  glaring  and  the  objection  so  frivolous  and 
shallow,  that  it  was  no  great  compliment  to  the  discernmcht  of  his  contem- 
porary undergraduates  of  the  institution,  that  it  should  have  gained  him 
reputation  with  them  for  metaphysical  acumen,  or  to  his  head  lecturer,  if 
he  did  not  detect  and  expose  his  error.  Let  us  examine  the  matter  as  it 
is  stated  by  the  Bishop.  Tlie  question  proposed  by  the  head  lecturer  was, 
has  Dr.  Clarke  demonstrated  the  absurdity  of  an  infinite  succession  of 
changeable  and  dependent  beings.-'  The  Bishop's  reply  was  no:  for  Clarke 
had  inquired  into  the  origin  of  a  series,  which,  being  from  the  supposition 
eternal,  could  have  no  origin;  and  into  the  first  term  of  a  series,  which,  be- 
ing from  the  supposition  infioite,  could  have  no  first. — Now,  with  all  due 
submission  to  the  Bishop's  better  judgment,  it  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if 
in  determining  the  question  whether  it  is  not  absurd  to  suppose  an  eternal 
succession  of  changeable  and  dependent  beings,  that  eternal  succession 
or  infinite  series  were  taken  for  granted  or  included  in  the  supposition. 
So  far  from  this  eternal  succession  of  such  beings  that  have  no  origin,  or 
this  infinite  series  that  could  have  no  first  term,  being  included  in  the 
supposition,  it  formed  tiie  very  point  at  issue,  viz.  to  determine,  whether 
there  could  be  any  such  eternal  succession  or  infinite  series  of  changeable 
and  dependent  beings;  or  in  other  words,  whether  changeable  and  depen- 
dent beings  must  not  always  have  an  origin  or  first  term.  Dr.  Clarke,  in 
our  estimation,  has  shown  witli  irresistible  force  of  argument,  the  gross  ab- 
surdity of  an  eternal  succession  of  changeable  and  dependent  beings,  or 
what  is  the  same  thing,  beings  of  this  description  who  have  no  origin. 
Thus  the  Bishop  is  found  guilty  of  that  grossest  of  all  logical  abortions,  cal- 
led an  ignorantia  eleuchi,  or  ignorance  of  the  question,  and  Dr.  Clarke's 
argun.ent    relieved    from    an    objection    that  might    be    supposed    by 


upon  Cause  and  Effect.  ft 

that  every  thing  which  begins  to  exist  must  have  a  cause 
being  derived  from  experience. 

The  first  is  this — "  The  proposition  to  be  proved  is  not  a 
contingent  but  necessary  proposition.  It  is  not,  that  things 
which  begin  to  exist  commonly  have  a  cause,  or  even  that 
they  always,  in  fact,  have  a  cause,  but  they  must  have  a 
cause  and  cannot  begin  to  exist  without  a  cause."  But  in  re- 
ply let  me  ask,  are  the  propositions  that  there  is  a  God,  that 
God  is  an  intelligent  Being,  that  God  is  benevolent,  contin- 
gent or  necessar}'  truths?  No  one  can  deny  that  they  are 
necessary.  It  is  eternally  and  immutably  true  that  there  is 
a  God,  and  that  he  is  an  intelligent  and  benevolent  being — 
And  yet  are  not  these  truths  which  are  collected  from  expe- 
rience, from  observing  in  creation  the  proofs  of  his  existence, 
his  wisdom  and  goodness,  and  would  it  not  be  impossible  to 
prove  these  things  in  any  other  way  but  by  an  appeal  to  his 
works?  Why  should  any  proposition,  because  it  takes  its  rise 
in  experience,  be  thought  incapable  of  being  rendered  eter- 
nally and  immutably  certain,  when  it  is  laid  hold  of  by  the 
understanding,  and  found  to  be  in  accordance  with  the  neces- 
sary nature  of  its  ideas,  and  the  unalterable  habitudes  and 
relations  of  things?  We  talk  much,  and  justly  too,  of  the  eter- 

those  who  were  unacquainted  with  the  subject  to  lie  against  it.  Of  a  na- 
ture similar  to  this  of  Bishop  Watson  will  be  found  most  of  those  objections 
brought  by  Dr.  Reid  against  the  principles  of  Clarke  and  Lncke.  They 
appear  plausible  at  first  sight  and  upon  a  superficial  view;  but  when  nar- 
rowly examined,  are  found  to  be  frivolous  and  futile.  We  consider  Dr. 
Clarke's  demonstration  of  the  being  and  attributes  of  God  as  one  of  the 
finest  monuments  of  human  genius,  and  would  strongly  recommend  to  all 
students  of  divinity  diligently  to  study  it,  and  never  to  be  contented  until 
they  completely  undeiwtand  it.  "  llle  se  profecisse  sciat,'"  says  Quintilian, 
"  cui  Cicero  valde  placebit."  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  writings  of 
Samuel  Clarke.  That  candidate  for  the  mmistry  may  consider  himself  as 
having  made  no  inconsiderable  advances  in  divinity,  who  has  learned  to 
understand  and  relish  the  writings  of  that  author. 


72  Opinio)iii  of  other  Authont 

nal  and  immutable  truths  of  morality,  such  as  that,  a  just 
God  will  reward  virtuous  men  and  punish  the  guilty,  that 
man  should  obey  the  will  of  his  Creator  and  be  just  towards 
his  fellowmen;  and  yet  are  not  these  maxims  derived  from 
experience  and  observation  of  the  constitution  and  laws  of 
nature? 

The  second  objection  of  the  Dr.  to  the  doctrine  that  the 
truth,  for  every  effect  there  must  be  a  cause  being  derived 
from  experience,  is,  '*  that  general  maxims,  grounded  on  ex- 
perience, have  only  a  degree  of  probability  proportioned  to 
the  extent  of  our  experience,  and  ought  always  to  be  under- 
stood so  as  to  leave  room  for  exceptions,  if  future  experi- 
ence should  discover  any  such."  This  is  a  rule  in  which  the 
philosopher  is  bound  by  the  principles  of  his  order  cheer- 
fully to  acquiesce.  And  if  ever  it  should  be  found  in  the 
course  of  our  experience  that  any  effect  is  produced  without 
the  operation  of  a  cause,  we  shall  be  compelled  to  abandon 
our  maxim,  whether  it  be  estimated  as  a  contingent  or  ne- 
cessary proposition. 

The  third  objection  is  frivolous  and  futile — "  I  do  not  see," 
says  he,  "  that  experience  could  satisfy  us  that  every  change 
in  nature  actually  has  a  cause.  In  the  far  greatest  part  of 
the  changes  in  nature  that  fall  within  our  observation,  the 
causes  are  unknown;  and  therefore,  from  experience  we  can- 
not know  whether  they  have  causes  or  not."  But  is  it  not  a 
settled  principle  in  philosophy,  and  indispensable  to  its  ad- 
vancement, that  maxims  collected  from  an  ample  induction 
of  facts  should  be  regarded  as  universal,  until  other  facts  are 
discovered  that  form  just  exceptions  to  them,  and  limit  the 
the  extent  of  their  application?  The  whole  race  of  man,  if 
they  could  be  consulted,  have  not  had  experience  that  every 
body  upon  the  earth's  surface  gravitates  towards  the  centre, 
and  yet  have  we  not  sufficient  reason  to  believe  that  all  bo- 
dies around  the  earth's  surface  gravitate  towards  its  centre, 
as  universally  true? 


upon  Cause  and  Effect.  73 

Before  I  conclude  this  article,  I  cannot  refrain  from  indulg- 
inf^  a  single  observation  more.  In  the  commencement  of 
our  strictures  upon  Dr.  Reid's  doctrine  on  this  point,  we 
find  him  asserting,  "  that  a  train  of  events  following  one  an- 
other ever  so  regularly,  could  never  lead  us  to  a  notion  of  a 
cause,  if  we  had  not  from  our  constitution  a  conviction  of 
the  necessity  of  a  cause  to  every  event."  Here  he  traces  our 
belief  in  the  necessity  of  a  cause  to  every  event,  to  an  instinc- 
tive and  original  principle  in  our  constitution,  and,  of  course, 
one  which  is  distinct  from  all  the  other  constituent  principles 
of  our  nature.  In  his  further  observations  upon  the  same 
subject,  he  says;  "  I  know  of  only  three  or  four  arguments 
in  the  way  of  abstract  reasoning  that  have  been  urged  by 
philosophers  to  prove,  that  things  which  begin  to  exist  must 
have  a  cause.  One  is  offered  by  Mr.  Hobbes,  another  by 
Dr.  Clarke,  and  another  by  Mr.  Locke.  Mr.  Hume,  in  his 
Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  has  examined  them  all,  and  in  my 
opinion  has  shown,  that  they  take  for  granted  the  thing  to 
be  proved;  a  kind  of  false  reasoning  which  men  are  very  apt 
to  fall  into  when  they  attempt  to  prove  what  is  self-evident." 
Here,  the  truth,  that  for  every  event  there  must  be  a  cause, 
before  traced  to  an  original  and  instinctive  principle  in  the 
constitution  of  our  nature,  is  said  to  be  self-evident.  How 
do  these  doctrines  comport  with  each  other?  If  it  be  a  self- 
evident  truth,  whence  the  necessity  of  supposing  a  distinct 
principle  in  the  formation  of  our  nature,  in  order  to  account 
for  our  having  arrived  at  it?  Could  we  not  have  obtained  it 
as  we  do  our  other  intuitive  perceptions?  Why  unnecessarily 
multiply  the  original  and  instinctive  principles  in  the  consti- 
tution of  our  nature?  The  method  which  nature  pursues  is  a 
method  of  admirable  simplicity  and  order,  that  which  some 
writers  would  prescribe  to  her  is  a  plan  of  intricacy,  entangle- 
ment and  confusion. 

Passing  from   the   objections  of  Dr.  Reid  against  the 
systems  of  other  philosophers  on  these  points,  1   proceed 


7A'  Ofiiniont  of  other  Authors 

to  examine  the  next  peculiarity  in  his  own  doctrine  about 
cause  and  effect.  He  maintains,  that  material  substances 
cannot  possess  active  power,  and,  of  course,  cannot  be  re- 
garded as  efficient  causes;  that  the  province  of  natural  phi- 
losophy is  not  to  trace  real  causes  and  effects,  but  merely 
to  mark  the  constant  conjunctions  of  objects  and  to  ascer- 
tain the  laws  of  nature;  and  fii  ally,  that  mind  alone,  either 
the  mind  of  the  Supreme  Being  or  Spirits  commissioned 
by  him,  can  possess  active  power,  or  be,  in  the  true  sense 
of  ihe  word,  efficient  causes.  In  favour  of  these  views  of 
things  he  endeavours  to  enlist  Newton  and  the  soundest  phi- 
losophers. "  Those  philosophers,"  says  he,''  appear  to  have 
had  the  justest  views  of  nature,  as  well  as  the  weakness  of 
human  understanding,  who  giving  up  the  pretence  of  disco- 
vering the  causes  of  the  operations  of  nature,  have  applied 
themselves  to  discover  by  observation  and  experiment,  the 
rules  or  laws  of  nature,  according  to  which  the  phenomena 
of  nature  are  produced."  Again  to  the  same  purport.  "  The 
whole  object  of  natural  philosophy,"  as  Newton  expressly 
teaches,  ''  is  reducible  to  these  two  heads;  first,  by  just  in- 
duction from  experiment  and  observation,  to  discover  the 
laws  of  nature,  and  then  to  apply  those  laws  to  the  solution 
of  the  phenomena  of  nature.  This  is  all  that  this  great  phi- 
losopher attempted,  and  all  that  he  thought  attainable." 
Here  we  perceive  that  all  the  phenomena  of  the  natural  world, 
are  said  to  be  referable  to  some  law  or  laws  of  nature  as  their 
cause.  But  the  Dr.  informs  us,  as  we  have  seen  in  extracts 
from  his  works,  and  I  think  with  good  reason,  that  the  laws 
of  nature  are  not  agents.  They  are  not  endowed  with  ac- 
tive power,  and  therefore  cannot  be  causes  in  the  proper 
sense.  They  are  only  the  rules  according  to  which  the  un- 
known (or  he  might  have  added  the  known)  cause  acts.  Now, 
since  for  every  effect  in  nature  there  must  be  an  efficient 
cause,  let  us  ask  what  is  the  efficient  cause  of  natural  ap- 
pearances?    The  only  answer  which  the  Dr.  could  consist- 


i 


upon  Cause  and  Effect,  75 

ently  return,  is  mind,  either  that  of  the  Supreme  Being  or 
of  Spirits  commissioned  by  him.    The  Supreme  Being,  then, 
operating  according  to  the  laws  of  nature,  is  the  real  efficient 
cause  of  all  natural  phenomena.     What  becomes  of  matter  in 
this  system,  and  what  office  is  left  it  to  perform?  Surely  mate- 
rial substances  disappear  from  the  stage  in  such  a  philosophy. 
Dr.  Reid  informs  us  that  he  once  heartily  embraced  the  opi- 
nions of  Bishop  Berkeley,  and  really  and  truly  believed  that 
there  is  no  such   thing  as  a   material   universe,   sun,   moon, 
stars,  the  earth,   mountains,  rivers,  trees   and  men,  and   we 
are  inclined  to  think,  however  he  may  have  persuaded  him- 
self to  the  contrary,  from  an  apprehension  of  those  ulterior 
consequences  which  he   saw  resulting  from   this  belief,   that 
he  neyer  entirely  released  himself  from  the  toils  of  that  fan- 
tastical theory,  for  here  we  find  him  unexpectedly  arrived  at 
it,  although  by  a  route   somewhat  more  circuitous   than  that 
taken  by  the  English  prelate.     Plato  imagined  that  he  could 
construct  a  world  out  of  matter,  ideas,  and  a  creating  mind; 
Aristotle  out  of  matter,  form,  and  privation;  but  Dr.    Reid 
can  work  with  more   dexterity  than  either,  for  he   can  fabri- 
cate a  universe,  and  afterwards  conduct  all  its  operations  by 
means  of  mind  and  the  laws  of  nature.     And   this  doctrine 
we  find  too  attempted  to  be  supported  by  the  sacred  author- 
ity of  Newton  and  the  philosophers.  As  to  the  philosophers, 
it  is  certain  that  among  all  the  ancients,  the  province  of  phi- 
losophy was  regarded  as  an  investigation  of  causes,  real  effi- 
cient causes.     See  what   Cicero  says   on  this  subject   in   his 
treatise  de  fato,  which  has  been  quoted  both  by   Dr.   Reid 
and  professor  Stewart  in  a  mutilated   form,  only  so  far  as 
made  it  appear  to  comport  with  their  opinions,  but  so  as  not 
to  elucidate  the  real  sentiments  of  the  author.    Causa,  autem 
ea  est,  quse  id  efficit,  cujus  est  causa;  ut  vulnus  mortis,  cru- 
ditas  morbi,  ignis  ardoris.     Itaque  non  sic   causa  intelligi 
debet,  ut  quod  cuique  antecedat,  id  ei  causa  sit,  sed  quod 
cuique  efficienter  antecedat.  Nee  quod  in  campum  descende- 


76  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

rem  id  fuisse  causa  cur  pila  luderem;  nee  Hecubam  causanri 
interritus  fuisse  Trojanis,  quod  Alexandrum  genuerit. 
This  passage  shows  that  while  the  term  cause  was  received, 
at  that  time  as  well  as  now,  in  so  many  vague  and  uncertain 
acceptations,  Cicero  as  a  philosopher  perfectly  understood 
its  philosophical  import.  That  is  cause,  he  maintains,  which 
has  power  to  produce  the  thing  called  its  effect;  not  merely 
that  which  precedes  it  (as  if  he  had  anticipated  the  theories 
of  Mr.  Hume  and  Dr.  Reid)  but  which  efficiently  precedes 
it;  as  a  wound  produces  death,  crudity  disease,  and  fire  heat. 
Here  we  see  that  Cicero  considers  fire  the  efficient  cause  of 
heat.  As  to  the  opinion  of  Newton,  that  he  considered  it 
the  business  of  natural  philosophy  to  investigate  efficient 
causes  there  cannot  be  a  shadow  of  doubt.  What  does  he 
mean  when  in  the  commencement  of  his  principia  he  pre- 
scribes his  two  first  rules  of  philosophising?  "  No  more 
causes  of  things  are  to  be  admitted  than  are  both  true  and 
sufficient  to  explain  the  appearances;  and  for  the  same  ap- 
pearances, because  of  the  uniformity  of  nature,  the  same 
causes  are  to  be  assigned:"  What  can  he  here  mean  by  the 
term  cause,  true  and  efficient  cause?  Take  the  passages  be- 
fore cited  from  him,  and  his  opinion  is  ascertained  beyond  any 
dispute.  "  What  the  efficient  cause  (causa  efficiens)  of  attrac- 
tion is,  I  do  not  here  inquire.  I  use  the  word  attraction  only 
in  general,  to  signify  the  force  by  which  bodies  tend  towards 
each  other,  whatever  be  the  cause  of  that  force."  Could  he 
have  more  distinctly  marked  the  distinction  between  an  effi- 
cient cause  and  the  laws  by  which  that  cause  acts?  He  evi- 
dently regards  the  efficient  cause  of  attraction  as  a  legiti- 
mate object  of  philosophical  research,  avowing  at  the  same 
time  that  he  had  not  been  able  to  discover  it,  not  being  de- 
ducible  from  any  phenomena  he  had  witnessed,  and  he  did 
not  choose  to  frame  an  hypothesis.  Of  what  nature  this  effi- 
cient cause  might  have  been,  in  the  opinion  of  this  great  man, 
is  sufficiently  ascertained  from  the  conjecture  he  modestly 


upon  Cause  and  EffecU  7V 

hazards  of  its  being  an  etherial  elastic  medium  pervading  the 
whole  system  and  binding  its  parts  together. 

Thus,  we  perceive  how  fruitless  and  ineffectual  is  the  at- 
tempt of  Dr.  Reid  to  enlist  Newton  of  his  party.  "  It  is  true" 
he  says,  "  that  a  great  deal  may  be  considered  as  done,  when 
we  have  discovered  some  laws  of  nature,  by  which  a  cause 
acts  in  producing  the  phenomena,  although  that  cause  itself 
may  remain  unknown.  In  this  respect  also  his  views  were 
accurate  and  profound.  Is  not  much  accomplished  by  him, 
when  from  having  discovered  a  few  general  laws  of  motion 
by  which  bodies  gravitate  t  )wards  each  other,  he  has  deter- 
mined the  sizes,  distances,  periodical  revolutions,  and  all 
other  phenomena  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  although  the  occult 
cause  of  all  these  outward  appearances  remains  unrevealed? 
But  could  the  Grand  Agent  that  produces  these  results  be  de- 
veloped, would  not  this  be  making  still  greater  advances  to- 
wards perfection  in  the  science  of  physical  nature?  Won- 
ders have  been  performed  by  philosophers  in  natural  science, 
but  still  greater  wonders  might  be  accomplished,  could  we 
once  be  so  fortunate  as  to  attain  access  to  that  great  Moving 
Spring  that  sets  into  operation  the  whole  vast  machinery. 

Let  us  now  briefly  enter  into  the  merits  of  Dr,  Reid's  opi- 
nions, and  test  their  own  truth  without  reference  to  the  sen- 
timents of  others.  On  what  ground  do  we  conclude  that 
matter  is  incapable  of  exerting  active  power,  and  that  in  na- 
tural philosophy  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  efficient  causes. 
We  feel  the  heat  of  fire,  and  perceive  the  light  of  the  sun. 
The  natural  impression  of  a  mind  untutored  in  the  language 
of  system  is,  "  that  fire  is,"  as  Cicero  says,  "  the  real  efficient 
cause  of  the  heaf,  and  the  sun  of  light."  Dr.  Reid,  how- 
ever, approaches  and  informs  us  that  we  are  all  this  time 
mistaken,  that  it  is  not  the  fire  which  warms  us  or  the  sun 
which  gives  us  light,  since  matter  cannot  act;  but  it  is  the 
Creator  himself  who  produces  these  results  by  the  laws  of 
Mature.     We  stand  astonished  at  the  intelligence,  and  find  a 


78  Opinions  of  other  Authors 

difficulty  in   comprehending  it.     It  is  a  mystery  too  deep  to 
be  penetrated  except  by  adepts  in  the  new  system  of  philoso- 
phy.    If  the  question  were,  whether  matter  possesses  in   it- 
self the  power  of  originating  motion  or  could  become  a  pri- 
mary cause,  I  conceive  the  case  would  be  entirely  altered. 
"We  have  arguments  enough  to  demonstrate  that  mind  alone 
could  be  the  originator  of  motion,  and  that  there  must  be  an 
immaterial  and  Intelligent  Being,  who  alone  can  have  been 
eternal  and  the  Great  Cause  of  all  other  things.  But  is  there 
any  good  ground   to  infer  that  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  the 
Almighty,  or  that  this  power  has  not  been  exercised,  to  com- 
municate to  matter  efficacy  sufficient  to  enable  it  to   produce 
certain  results?    In  fact,  have  we  not  incontestible  proof  that 
it  does  produce  them?    Sir  Isaac  Newton,  we  have  seen,  pro- 
fessed himself  unable  to  ascertain  the  efficient  cause  of  gra- 
vity, and  merely  conjectures  that  it  may  be   produced   by  a 
thin  and  elastic  fluid;  but  does  he  say  the  same  of  the  rain- 
bow and  other  optical  phenomena?    Are  not  the  rays  of  light 
the  real  efficient  cause  of  these  beautiful  appearances?  If  we 
suppose  the   Suprt-me   Being  or  mind  to  be   the   immediate 
cause  of  light  that  issues  from  the  sun,  is  it  mind  also  that 
is  refracted  and  reflected  in  drops  of  rain  falling  from  the 
clouds,  so  as  to  spread  upon  them,  in  vision,  that  variety  of 
colours?     There  seems  to  be  an  evident  absurdity  in  suppos- 
ing mind  to  be  the  only  agent  throughout  the  whole  chain  of 
causes  acting  in  nature.     The  heat  of  the  sun  between   the 
tropics  rarefies  the  air  and  occasions   the  trade-winds;  the 
trade-winds  act  upon  the  sails  of  the  vessel  so  as  to  propel 
her  in  her  course;  the  vessel  bears  the  navigator  to  his  port: 
Now,  it  is  easy  to  conceive  of  the  creator  as  the  first  link  in 
this  chain  of  causes,  and  that  he  communicates  to  the  sun  the 
power  to  diffuse  abroad  his  heat;  but  how  shall  we  conceive 
that  it  is  he  himself  who  acts  immediately   in   rarefying  the 
air,  exciting  the  wind,  filling  the  sails  of  the  vessel,  and  waft- 
ing the  navigator  to  his  haven?     No  doubt  all  these  opera- 


upon  Cause  and  Effect*  ■  79 

tions  are  performed  by  his  appointment  and  under  his  super- 
intendance  and  controul,  and  all  the  agents  in  physical  na- 
ture, the  light,  heat^  winds,  seas,  and  clouds,  when  perform- 
ing the  various  functions  allotted  them  in  creation,  are  only 
fulfilling  his  wise  purposes.  He  has  impressed  upon  all  phy- 
sical principles  the  laws  or  rules  of  their  action;  but  there  is 
a  manifest  absurdity  in  supposing  him  the  sole  agent  in  the 
whole  train  of  events.  Is  ncjt  the  wind  that  fills  the  sails  of  the 
vessel,  the  efficient  cause  of  its  motion  in  the  deep,  and  the 
heat  that  rarefies  and  excites  the  air,  the  efficient  cause  of 
the  winds?  Thousands  of  other  cases  might  be  stated,  in  which 
the  absurdity  of  making  mind  the  sole  agent  in  the  operations 
of  nature  might  be  displayed;  but,  we  cannot  but  be  of  opinion, 
it  would  be  unnecessary,  as  those  we  have  already  alleged 
must  be  sufficient. 

.  The  doctrine,  therefore,  of  God's  acting  by  means  of  in- 
struments or  second  causes,  upon  which  he  has  originally  im- 
pressed their  several  laws,  seems  to  have  a  deep  foundation 
in  nature  and  the  necessary  train  of  our  ideas,  and  is  con- 
formable to  the  first  suggestions  of  the  human  mind  and  the 
unsophisticated  sentiments  of  all  mankind.  We  construct  a 
complicated  piece  of  machinery,  and  prepare  it  for  its  ope- 
rations. By  the  turning  of  a  single  wheel  we  set  the 
whole  in  motion,  one  wheel  moving  a  second,  and  that  a 
third,  and  so  on.  Now,  although  we  are  ourselves  the 
principal  and  responsible  movers,  has  not  the  second  wheel 
the  power  communicated  to  it  of  moving  the  third,  and  the 
third  the  fourth,  and  so  forth?  So  it  is  evidently  with  God. 
He  made  and  arranged  the  vast  machinery  of  the  universe, 
and  under  his  superintendance  it  is  preserved  in  order,  and 
performs  its  diversified  operations;  but  does  it  not  exalt  our 
ideas  of  his  wisdom  and  greatness  to  suppose,  that  he  has  so 
adjusted  its  parts  to  each  other,  and  so  exquisitely  wrought 
the  whole  into  a  regular  system,  as  that  his  immediate  inter- 


8U  Opinions  of  other  Anthora 

ference  in  the  scheme,  except  where  he  originally  contem- 
plated such  interference,  shall  seldom,  if  ever,  be  necessary? 

There  are  two  particulars  in  the  opinic-ns  of  Dr.  Reid, 
which  it  will  be  worth  while  to  examine  a  little  more  min- 
utely; the  one,  why  we  should  deny  to  matter  the  possibility 
of  having  active  power,  even  when  that  power  is  considered 
as  derived;  the  other,  why  we  should  deny  that  efficient 
causes  are  to  be  traced  in  natural  events,  and  yet  allow  moral 
agents  to  be  true  efficients. 

As  to  the  first  particular,  why  we  should  deny  to  matter 
the  possibility  of  possessing  active  power,  even  when  that 
power  is  considered  as  derived,  there  would  seem  to  be  no 
just  ground  in  nature,  or  in  the  connection  of  our  ideas  for 
such  an  opinion.  We  have  the  same  reason  to  believe  that 
material  substances  possess  a  power,  under  the  influence  of 
which  they  act  from  necessity,  as  that  mind  is  also  endowed 
with  a  power,  under  the  influence  of  which  we  act  voluntari- 
ly. The  only  distinction  between  them  is,  that  our  know- 
ledge and  belief  of  the  one  is  derived  from  sensation,  our 
knowledge  and  belief  of  the  other  is  derived  from  reflection. 
From  the  earliest  period  of  life,  we  observe  the  operations 
of  bodies  upon  one  another,  and  the  changes  and  modifications, 
which  by  their  applications  to  each  other,  they  produce.  We 
remark  also,  when  we  turn  our  attention  inward  and  reflect 
upon  the  operations  of  our  own  minds,  that  we  can  fix  our  at- 
tention upon  any  one  subject  or  change,  at  pleasure,  the  train 
of  our  thoughts;  and  moreover,  that  by  the  determinations  of 
our  will,  we  can  put  our  bodies  into  any  motion  we  choose.  By 
sensation,  therefore;  that  is,  by  observing  the  actions  of  bodies 
upon  each  other  and  the  results  of  those  actions,  and  by  re- 
flection also,  that  is,  by  observing  the  operations  of  our  minds 
and  the  influence  which  our  wills  possess  over  our  bodily  ac- 
tions, we  arrive  at  ideas  of  power,  active  power,  efficiency, 
Mr.  Locke  thinks,  indeed,  and  perhaps  not  without  reason, 
that  we  have  a  clearer  idea  of  active  power  from  reflectioii. 


upon  Cause  and  Effect.  81 

than  from  sensation.  However  this  may  be,  we  cannot  but 
remark  that  there  is  a  very  wide  difference  between  the  power 
which  we  exercise  in  thinking  and  acting,  and  that  which  is 
exercised  by  the  objects  of  the  external  world  that  surround 
us.  When  we  move  our  limbs  or  direct  the  attention  of  our 
minds  to  any  subject,  we  are  conscious  that  these  are  volun- 
tary acts  appertaining  to  a  being  that  is  possessed  of  under- 
standing and  discretion.  When,  on  the  other  hand,  the  cloud 
rises  in  the  air  and  is  borne  along  by  the  wind,  when  the 
stream  flows  in  its  banks,  or  the  vessel  is  wafted  on  its  bosom, 
we  are  sensible  that  these  things  are  effected  by  a  very  differ- 
ent process  from  that  of  which  we  had  been  conscious  in  our 
own  actions.  Thus  we  derive  very  distinct  conceptions  of  vo- 
luntary- and  involuntary,  or  necessary  agents.  But  the  proof  is 
as  complete  and  satisfactory,  that  matter  acts  or  exercises 
powers  under  the  controul  of  necessary  laws,  as  that  mind 
acts  or  exercises  its  powers,  under  the  influence  of  its  own 
choice  or  determinations. 

Vv'hy,  then,  to  merge  the  second  question  in  the  first;  why 
should  we  deny  that  efficient  causes  are  to  be  traced  in  natu- 
ral philosophy,  and  yet  allow  moral  agents  to  be  true  effi- 
cients? Father  Mallebranche  consistently  maintains,  that  God 
is  the  sole  operating  cause  throughout  the  universe,  as  well 
in  the  moral  as  the  physical  world.  This  theory,  however 
indefensible  we  may  deem  it,  and  clogged  with  insuperable 
difficulties,  has  at  least  the  merit  of  being  consistent  with  it- 
self in  its  various  parts.  If  God  be  regarded  as  the  sole 
operating  cause  of  the  appearances  in  the  natural  world,  why 
not  make  him  the  sole  operating  cause  of  the  thoughts  and  ac- 
tions of  men?  No  reason  can  be  given  for  the  one  theory,  which 
will  not  apply  with  equal  force  in  the  establishment  of  the  other. 
But  matter  is  not  capable  of  exercising  active  power.  Neither 
do  we  suppose  that  our  minds  possess  power,  which  is  un- 
derived  or  independent.  But  the  Creator  has  endowed  them 
with  the  privilege  of  originating  motion.     Why  not,  then, 

L 


82  Opinions  o*'  other  Authors^  fePc. 

since  he  has  made  mind  capable  of  voluntary  action,  make 
matter  capable  of  nec^ssarv  action?  I  have  no  more  difficul- 
ty in  conceiving  that  God  should  communicate  to  fire  the 
power  of  reducing  wood  to  charcoal,  than  that  he  should  con- 
vey to  a  rational  creature  the  power  of  voluntary  action. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart. 

I  shall  conclude  this  statement  of  the  opinions  of  different 
writers  on  the  subject  of  cause  and  effect,  with  that  of  Du- 
gald  Stewart,  professor  of  moral  philosophy,  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Edinburgh.  He  treads  so  closely  in  the  footsteps  of 
Dr.  Reid,  that  when  we  have  exhibited  the  opinions  of 
the  one,  we  have,  at  the  same  time,  as  to  all  material  points, 
given  those  of  the  other  also.  What  the  one,  had  obscurely 
intimated  as  his  system,  the  other  assumes  and  promulges 
as  established  doctrines,  merely  throwing  into  the  whole 
compound  some  slight  admixtures  of  his  own. 

In  the  first  place,  Professor  Stewart  agrees  with  Dr. 
Reid  in  asserting,  that  we  cannot  arrive  at  the  truth,  for 
every  effect  there  must  be  an  efficient  cause,  from  intuition, 
reason  or  experience,  but  that  it  is  to  be  traced  only  to  an 
original  and  instinctive  principle  in  the  constitution  of  our 
nature. 

Secondly,  he  agrees  with  Dr.  Reid  in  maintaining,  that 
no  such  thing  as  an  efficient  cause  is  to  be  ascertained  in  the 
material  world,  and  that  the  province  of  natural  philosophy 
is  not  to  trace  the  series  of  causes  and  effects,  but  merely 
to  note  the  constant  conjunctions  of  objects,  and  the  connec- 
tion between  the  signs  and  the  things  signified  by  them; 
and  moreover,  as  the  pupil  is  always  more  daring  than  his 
master  in  hazarding  and  supporting  extraordinary  tenets, 
he  actually  recommends  the  exclusion  of  the  terms  from  the 
pursuits  of  physical  science. 

With  principles,  thus  accordant  with  those  of  Dr.  Reid, 
and  Mr.  Hume  also,  in  the  last  particular,  he  kneads  a  few 
peculiar  sentiments  of  his  own.     He  allows,  what  Dr.  Reid 


S4  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewarts 

probably  would  have  been  reluctant  to  admit,  that  in  es- 
pousing these  opinions  they  advance  half  way  with  Mr. 
Hume  on  the  road  towards  his  sceptical  conclusions,  and 
there  desert  him.  Finally,  he  asserts,  that  from  premises 
similar  to  those  of  Mr.  Hume,  Father  Mallebranche  de- 
duced the  inference,  that  God  is  the  sole  operating  cause 
throughout  the  universe.  I  shall  animadvert  upon  each  of 
these  items  in  his  doctrine  in  regular  order. 

In  the  first  place,  Professor  Stewart  agrees  with  Dr.  Reid 
in  asserting,  that  we  cannot  arrive  at  the  truth,  for  every 
effect  in  nature  there  must  be  an  adequate  cause,  by  intuition, 
reason,  or  experience,  but  that  it  is  to  be  traced  only  to  an 
original  and  instinctive  principle  in  the  constitution  of  our 
nature.  His  opinion  on  this  point  is  expressed  in  the  fol~ 
lowing  passages.  "  In  stating  the  argument  for  the  exist- 
ence of  the  Deity,  several  modern  philosophers  have  been 
at  pains  to  illustrate  that  law  of  our  nature,  which  leads  us 
to  refer  every  change  in  the  universe  to  the  operation  of  an 
efficient  cause.  This  reference  is  not  the  result  of  reason- 
ing, but  necessarily  accompanies  the  perception,  so  as  to  ren- 
der it  impossible  for  us  to  see  the  change,  without  feeling  a 
conviction  of  the  operation  of  some  cause,  by  which  it  i& 
produced."  Again.  "  If  this  part  of  his  system  be  admit- 
ted, and  at  the  same  time  we  admit  the  authority  of  that 
principle  of  the  mind,  which  leads  us  to  refer  every  change 
to  the  operation  of  an  efficient  cause,  Mr.  Hume's  doctrine 
seems  to  be  more  favourable  to  theism  than  even  the  com- 
mon notions  upon  this  subject,  as  It  keeps  the  Deity  always 
in  view,  not  only  as  the  first,  but  as  the  constantly  operating 
efficient  cause  in  nature,  and  as  the  great  connecting  princi- 
ple among  all  the  various  phenomena  which  we  observe." 
Those  who  have  taken  the  trouble  to  toil  through  the  dark 
ah}  3s  of  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  and  at  the  same  time 
have  at  heart  the  great  interests  of  truth  and  mankind,  will 
be  somewhat  startled  to  hear  it  seriously  asserted,  that  there 


opinions  of  Prohssor  Stewart.  85 

is  any  process  by  which  Mr.  Hume's  principles  may  be  made 
to  undergo  such  a  thorough  transformation,  as  to  come  out 
more  favourable  to  theism  than  even  the  common  notions 
upon  this  subject,  and  to  keep  the  Deity  always  in  view,  not 
only  as  the  first,  but  as  the  constantly  operating  cause 
in  nature.  If  such  a  miracle  as  this  can  be  performed,  they 
are  ready  to  exclaim,  surely  that  ancient  and  inveterate  war 
which  has  been  waged,  from  time  immemorial,  between  the 
great  contending  powers  of  atheism  and  theism,  may  now 
be  brought  to  an  amicable  termination.  Mr.  Hume's  princi- 
ples reconcileable  to  those  of  theism!  Placidis  coeant  im- 
mitia,  serpentes  avibus  geminentur,  tigribus  agni.  What 
pity  is  it,  that  old  Democritus,  Leucippus,  Epicurus,  Spi- 
noza, Hobbes,  and  a  long  list  of  others  of  a  similar  stamp, 
had  not  been  made  acquainted  with  this  wonderful  secret? 
How  completely  might  they  have  escaped  that  load  of  ob- 
loquy and  odium,  with  which  their  memories  have  been 
burthened,  and  mankind,  that  long  train  of  mischievous  ef- 
fects that  have  resulted  from  their  writings?  For,  surely,  if 
by  any  contrivance  the  doctrines  of  Mr,  Hume  can  be 
brought  to  accord  with  the  principles  of  theism,  the  same 
may  be  done  for  those  of  any  other  atheist  that  ever  lived. 
A  ranker  and  more  poisonous  weed  of  atheism  never  sprang 
from  the  teeming  garden  of  Epicurus,  than  that  which  has 
been  planted  and  brought  to  maturity,  and  distributed  among 
mankind  in  various  infusions,  by  the  great  modern  sceptick 
of  Scotland.  And  by  what  art  and  address  is  it,  that  this 
deleterious  drug,  is  not  only  to  be  rendered  innocuous  but 
wholesome  to  the  patient?  Forsooth,  by  a  slight  decoction 
of  that  rare  exotick,  unknown  to  the  walks  and  unrevealed  to 
the  curiosity  of  the  scientifick  inquirer,  called  an  instinctive 
and  original  principle  of  our  constitution,  which,  antecedently 
to  reason  and  reflection,  leads  us  to  the  prodigiously  impor- 
tant conclusion,  that  for  every  change  in  nature  there  must  be 
an  adequate  cause.     The  voice   of  this   single   instinct  is  to 


86  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart. 

supersede  the  exercise  of  reason,  vacate  the  lessons  of  ex- 
perience, and  silence  the  clamours  of  atheism.  Hobbes  may 
prove  by  unanswerable  arguments,  if  he  please,  that  the  uni- 
verse is  subjected  to  the  controul  of  an  irresistible  fate;  Spino- 
za, that  the  universe  is  itself  God;  Epicurus,  that  it  was 
formed  by  a  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms;  Mr.  Hume,  that 
it  was  not  formed  at  all,  since  there  is  no  good  ground  of 
reasoning  from  the  effect  to  the  cause;  and  we  have  only  to 
admit  the  existence  of  this  small  instinct  which  so  infallibly 
guides  us,  and  all  their  systems  are  reconciled  to  theism. 
In  addition  to  what  I  have  already  said  about  this  wonder 
working  instinct,  upon  the  decision  of  whose  oracular  voice 
the  Scottish  metaphysicians  are  willing  to  rest  the  infinitely 
important  truth  of  the  Being  of  a  God,  suppose  we  should 
ask  the  question,  what  proof  have  we  of  the  existence  of  such 
a  distinct  principle  in  our  constitution?  The  question,  I 
shrewdly  conjecture,  would  put  the  advocates  of  the  theory 
to  a  nonplus;  for,  singular  as  it  may  appear,  not  one  proof 
has  been  exhibited  of  the  existence  of  such  an  instinct.  It 
has  been  gratuitously  assumed,  merely  to  answer  the  pur- 
poses of  a  system,  while  not  a  single  fact  has  been  alleged 
to  show  that  it  has  a  real  existence  in  our  constitution. 
Will  it  be  said  that  the  fact  of  our  having  arrived  at  the  con- 
clusion, that  for  ever}'  change  in  nature  there  must  be  an 
adequate  cause,  is  a  proof  of  its  existence  in  rerum  natura? 
But  has  nature,  or  rather  nature's  God,  found  it  necessary  to 
confer  upon  us  a  separate  instinct,  in  order  that  we  might  at- 
tain this  single  maxim,  and  which  as  soon  as  it  has  accom- 
plished this  sole  object,  drops  its  commission  and  never 
again  appears  upon  the  scene?  Is  this  consistent  with  the 
usual  simplicity  of  nature?  There  would  be  as  good  ground 
in  reason  and  a  right  understanding  of  nature  to  conclude, 
that  so  many  distinct  principles  are  given  us  by  the  Creator, 
in  oi-der  that  we  might  attain  to  a  knowledge  of  all  the  rules 
of  philosophising  prescribed  by  Newton,  as  well  as  the  fun- 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart.  87 

damental  truths  in  all  the  branches  of  science.  Besides,  to 
conclude  our  account  of  this  part  of  the  subject,  by  present- 
ing it  in  another  point  of  light.  We  are  told  by  the  professor, 
and  his  master  before  him,  that  we  have  an  original  and  in- 
stinctive principle  which  leads  us  to  the  conclusion,  that  for 
every  event  in  nature  there  must  be  an  efficient  cause.  Nov/", 
does  not  this  instinct  as  powerfully  lead  us  to  conclude,  that 
those  causes,  which  operate  to  produce  their  effects  in  the 
physical  world,  are  really  and  truly  efficient  causes;  or  is  this 
instinct  so  profound  a  metaphysician  as  to  draw  the  line  of 
discrimination  between  physical  and  efficient  causes?  If  it 
cannot  draw  this  distinction,  what  purpose  can  it  serve  in 
our  constitution,  but  to  lead  us  directly  into  error;  since  the 
first  and  unbiassed  impressions  of  all  mankind,  as  allowed  by 
the  professor  is,  that  the  causes  which  operate  in  the  natural 
World  are  real  efficients,  or,  as  they  have  been,  fancifully  de- 
nominated without  any  license  from  authority,  metaphysical 
causes.  The  conclusion  which  we  conceive  ourselves  at 
liberty  to  draw,  therefore,  is,  that  this  instinct,  hitherto  un- 
known to  the  philosophical  world,  has  none  of  the  marks  or 
lineaments  of  the  genuine  offspring  of  nature,  but  the  most 
decisive  proofs  of  its  being  a  spurious  bantling,  born,  nur- 
sed and  educated  in  the  school  of  a  false  and  mistaken  meta- 
physick.  Without  further  ceremony,  therefore,  we  give  it  its 
dismission  without  a  single  benediction;  and  consign  it  to 
that  oblivion,  from  which  it  has  just  emerged,  to  become  the 
disgrace  of  its  parents,  the  outcast  of  nature,  and  the  scorn 
of  philosophy. 

The  second  particular  in  the  doctrine  of  the  professor, 
which  also  he  has  assumed  without  proof  from  Dr.  Reid,  is, 
that  no  such  thing  as  an  efficient  cause  is  to  be  ascertained 
in  the  natural  world,  and  that  the  province  of  natural  phi- 
losophy, is  not,  as  all  mankind  have  hitherto  supposed,  to 
trace  the  series  of  causes  and  effects,  but  merely  to  note  the 
conjunctions  of  objects,  or  ascertain  the  relations  between  the 


88  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart 

signs  and  the  things  signified  by  them.  He  even  recom- 
mends the  rejection  of  the  terms  causes  and  effects  from  the 
investigations  of  natural  science.  As  to  this  recommendation, 
however  respectable  the  authority  from  which  it  proceeds, 
we  are  inclined  to  think  that  philosophers  are  likely  to  prove 
refractory  in  the  matter,  and  refuse  their  compliance  with  a 
demand,  which  requires  them  to  relinquish  the  use  of  terms 
at  once  so  expressive  of  their  idt-as,  so  well  suited  to  their 
unsophisticated  views  of  things,  and  that  have  been  consecra- 
ted to  the  same  purpose  by  the  immemorial  usage  of  the 
soundest  and  best  interpreters  of  nature;  more  especially 
when  it  is  understood,  that  they  are  to  substitute  in  their 
stead  that  unintelligible  jargon  of  signs  and  the  things  signi- 
fied by  them,  that  have  gained  such  general  prevalence  in  the 
recent  school  of  metaphysicks. 

But  to  proceed  with  the  sentiments  of  the  professor.  It 
is  but  just  in  the  first  instance  to  display,  too,  the  merits  of  the 
author  of  the  doctrines  he  espouses.  "  I  am  very  ready  to 
acknowledge,  "  says  he,"  that  this  doctrine  concerning  the 
object  of  natural  philosophy  is  not  altogether  agreeable  to 
popular  prejudices.  When  a  man  unaccustomed  to  metaphy- 
sical speculations,  is  told  for  the  first  time,  that  the  science 
of  physicks  gives  us  no  information  concerning  the  efficient 
causes  of  the  phenomena,  about  which  it  is  employed,  he 
feels  some  degree  of  surprise  and  mortification.  The  natu- 
ral bias  of  the  mind  is  surely  to  conceive  physical  events  as 
somehow  linked  together,  and  material  substances  as  pos- 
sessed of  certain  powers  and  virtues,  which  fit  them  to  pro- 
duce particular  effects.  That  we  have  no  reason  to  believe 
this  to  be  the  case,  has  been  shown  in  a  very  satisfactory 
manner  by  Mr.  Hume  and  by  other  writers."  Here  we  are 
told  that  there  is  a  natural  prejudice  or  bias  among  mankind 
to  conceive  of  physical  causes  and  effects  as  somehow  linked 
together,  and  material  substances  as  possessed  of  certain 
powers  and  virtues  which  fit  them  to  produce  particular  ef- 


Optmons  of  Professor  Stewart.  89 

fects.  Now  is  it  not  strange  that  there  should  be  such  a 
natural  bias  as  this  among  the  vulgar,  to  imagine  the  causes 
that  operate  in  the  physical  world  to  be  real  efficients,  if  we 
are  all  possessed  of  an  instinctive  principle  which  leads  us, 
antecedently  to  reflection,  to  ascribe  all  effects  to  true  effi- 
cient causes?  We  presume  that  this  must  be  a  previous  effort 
of  instinct  in  its  unenlightened  state,  before  it  has  received 
its  instruction  in  the  schools,  and  is  rendered  a  profound 
metaphysician.  Are  the  natural  biasses  and  prejudices  of  man- 
kind usually  in  favour  of,  or  in  opposition  to,  their  instincts, 
which  are  generally  regarded  as  discriminated  from  the 
other  constituent  powers  of  our  nature,  by  the  circumstance? 
that  they  conduct  us  strongly  and  infallibly  to  their  objects, 
without  being  subject  to  the  errors  and  failures  even  of  our 
higher  faculties? 

■  But  Mr.  Hume  has  discovered  that  this  natural  bias  of  the 
mind,  to  conceive  that  material  substances  are  possessed  of 
certain  powers  and  virtues  which  fit  them  to  produce  parti- 
cular effects,  is  altogether  fallacious.  That  is  to  say,  looking 
at  the  candle  which  is  now  before  me,  when  I  perceive  the 
flame  consuming  the  wick  and  spermaceti,  and  diffusing  light 
upon  my  paper,  I,  and  all  persons,  who  like  myself  are  unin- 
structed  in  the  tenets  of  the  new  philosophy,  am  silly  enough  to 
conclude,  that  there  is  a  real  power  or  virtue  communicated 
to  the  flame  to  enable  it  to  consume  the  wick,  and  shed 
abroad  its  light;  but  Mr.  Hume  has  shown  in  a  very  satis- 
factory manner,  that  in  this  belief  we  are  entirely  mistaken, 
and  that  the  flame  possesses  no  such  power  or  virtue.  If 
then,  we  ask  the  question,  what  is  the  cause  of  the  consump- 
tion of  the  wick,  and  the  diffusion  of  the  light  from  the  flame? 
Mr.  Hume,  with  a  smile  of  indifference,  would  tell  us  that 
we  have  no  reason  to  conclude  that  there  is  any  cause  in  the 
case,  as  all  we  can  know  of  the  matter  is,  that  these  objects, 
the  consumption  of  the  wick,  and  the  diffusion  of  light,  and 
the  appearance  of  the  flame,  are  contiguous  and  conjoined  to 

M 


90  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart. 

each  other.  If,  dissatisHed  with  this  solution,  we  turn  to  the 
Professor,  he  resolves  all  our  difficulties  by  informing  us,  that 
although  it  be  true,  as  Mr.  Hume  has  asserted,  that  we  have 
no  just  reason  to  conclude  that  there  is  any  power  or  virtue 
residing  in  the  flame  to  produce  these  results,  yet  they  are  to 
be  referred  to  the  efficient  cause  himself,  that  is  to  the  Crea- 
tor. Thus,  God  himself  is  brought  in  as  the  immediate  and 
sole  operating  cause  throughout  the  natural  world;  and  one 
of  the  least  defensible,  though  not  the  most  dangerous  parts 
of  the  doctrine  of  Father  Mallebranche,  is  obtruded  upon  us, 
without  the  relief  and  advantage  of  its  consistency  and  har- 
mony with  its'elf.  When  by  the  poison  of  a  rattlesnake  we  arc 
killed,  or  torn  to  pieces  by  the  tiger;  when  the  lightning  darts 
upon  our  houses  and  the  hurricane  destroys  us  in  the  ocean; 
when  the  earthquake  opens  the  earth  and  swallows  us  alive, 
or  the  lava  of  the  volcanoe  overwhelm  us  with  ruin;  in  all 
these  cases,  there  is  no  power  in  the  poison  of  the  snake  to 
cause  our  end;  no  strength  in  the  tiger  to  destroy  us;  no  force 
in  the  lightning,  the  winds  or  those  agents  that  cause  earth- 
quakes and  volcanoes;  but  all  these  results  are  produced  by 
the  immediate  operative  agency  of  God  himself.  Such  a  phi- 
losophy partakes  too  much  of  the  unintelligible  jargon  of  the 
schoolmen;  and  off'ers  too  great  an  outrage  to  the  principles 
of  common  sense  and  sound  understanding,  not  to  be  dis- 
claimed by  the  sober  inquirer  after  truth,  with  indignation 
and  scorn. 

But  we  have  a  much  greater  exploit  of  Mr.  Hume  to  re- 
late, in  the  next  place,  than  the  discovery  that  there  is  no 
power  in  fire  to  burn  us;  no  force  in  lightning  to  destroy  us; 
no  strength  in  the  tiger  to  rend  and  devour  us. 

"  Mr.  Hume,"  says  the  professor,"  had  the  merit  of  show- 
ing that  our  common  language,  with  respect  to  cause  and  ef- 
fect, is  merely  analogical,  and  that  if  there  be  any  links 
among  physical  events  they  must  forever  remain  invisible  to 
us."     This  too,  to  be  sure,  was  a  notable  discovery,  and  an 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart.  91 

iidmirable  effort  of  genius  for  the  great.historian  of  England! 
*'  When  we  speak  of  a  chain  of  causes  and  effects,  we  are  in- 
fornmed  by  Mr.  Hume,"  says  the  Professor,  "  who  seems  to 
have  attained  to  such  deep  knowledge  without  any  aid  from 
supernatural  light,  as  he  never  laid  claim  to  any,  that  there 
is  no  real  chain  in  the  case,  but  that  the  expression  is  mere- 
ly figurative,  or,  if  you  prefer  the  term,  analogical.  For  in- 
stance, the  vessel  moves  in  the  stream  by  the  force  of  the  tide; 
the  tide  rises  and  falls  from  the  approach  and  recess  of  the 
waters  of  the  ocean;  the  ocean  is  influenced  in  its  mass  of 
fluid  by  the  attraction  of  the  sun  and  moon;  attraction  is  oc- 
casioned by  some  unknown  cause;  this  unknown  cause  de- 
rives its  power  from  the  hand  of  the  Almighty.  Here,  we 
are  in  the  habit  of  speaking  of  a  chain  of  causes  and  effects, 
the  first  link  of  which,  is,  as  usual,  traced  to  the  throne  of 
the  Almighty.  But  Mr.  Hume  has  discovered,  by  mere 
dint  of  natural  penetration,  that  there  is  in  reality  no  material 
chain,  connecting  the  vessel  wiih  the  throne  of  the  Almighty. 
If  any  persons  ever  thought  so,  in  all  good  will  and  charity, 
v/e  leave  them  to  be  corrected  by  Mr.  Hume;  but,  for  our- 
selves, although  we  would  make  it  a  matter  of  conscience  not 
to  withhold  his  due  praise  even  from  an  atheist  and  sceptic; 
yet  we  cannot  conceive  how  any  one  in  his  senses,  could  be 
so  simple  ?s  to  imagine  that  he  was  using,  in  such  modes  of 
expression,  any  other  than  a  metaphorical  language. 

We  have  already  displayed  in  the  works  of  Mr.  Hume  a 
much  more  daring  and  gigantic  effort,  than  that  which  is  ascrib- 
ed to  him  by  the  Professor.  Not  contented  with  discovering 
(if  he  has  done  so)  that  our  language  about  cause  and  effect, 
is  merely  analogical,  we  find  him  endeavouring  by  one  great 
exertion  to  break  the  chain  that  binds  his  race  and  all  created 
nature  to  the  throne  of  the  Almighty.  Like  the  Titans  of 
old,  he  wages  impious  war  agamst  the  throne  and  govern- 
ment of  God,  and  essays  to  obliterate  from  the  minds  of  men 
a  belief  in  his  existence,  and  all  trust  in  his  providence.   Let 


92  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart. 

us  see,  however,  with  what  cool  indifference  and  philosophick 
sang-froid,  a  modern  philosopher  can  allude  to  this  serious 
and  atrocious  attempt  of  Mr.  Hume.  "  This  hmguage," 
says  our  Professor,  "  has  even  been  adopted  by  philosophers, 
and  by  atheists  as  well  as  theists.  The  latter  have  represent- 
ed natural  events  as  parts  of  a  great  chain,  the  highest  link 
of  which  is  supported  by  the  Deity;  the  former  have  pretend- 
ed that  there  is  no  absurdity  in  supposing  the  number  of 
links  to  be  infinite."  This  it  must  be  confessed  is  a  very 
polite  and  complacent  allusion  to  the  doctrine  of  a  perpetual 
successionof  causes,  upon  which  all  the  best  philosophers, both 
of  ancient  and  modern  times,  have  agreed  in  setting  the  seal 
of  their  reprobation,  and  the  absurdity  of  which  Dr.  Clarke, 
in  his  demonstration  of  the  being  and  attributes  of  God,  has 
so  completely  exposed.  For  our  part,  we  cannot  but  regret 
to  say,  that  professor  Stewart,  popular  a  writer  as  he  has  ren- 
dered himself  in  some  circles,  and  favourable  as  has  been  the 
reception  with  which  his  works  have  generally  met;  in  our 
estimation  as  the  advocate  of  virtue  and  religion,  assumes  a 
very  questionable  shape.  If  he  be  the  real  friend  of  virtue 
and  religion,  and  have  at  heart  the  great  interests  of  truth 
and  mankind,  could  he  refer  with  the  same  apparent  appro- 
bation and  satisfaction  to  the  works  of  the  enemies  of  truth 
and  its  abettors,  of  atheists  and  theists?  How  gently  does 
he  touch  the  abominable  doctrines  of  Mr.  Hume;  sometimes 
even  endeavouring  to  palliate  them  and  appropriate  them  to 
himself!  No  matter  whether  men  approve  themselves  the 
true  interpreters  of  nature,  or  its  corruptors  and  falsifiers;  the 
supporters  of  morals  and  religion,  or  their  subverters;  sound 
politicians,  or  anarchists  and  disorganizers;  the  propagators 
of  the  most  just  and  sublime  lessons  of  philosophy,  or  the  re- 
tailers of  a  miserable  jargon;  thev  all  have  equally  respect- 
ful and  honourable  mention  in  his  pages.  Newton,  Locke, 
Bacon,  Clarke,  Aristotle,  Des  Cartes,  Mallebranche,  Butler, 
successively  appear  upon  the  stage,  in  company  with  Rous- 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart.  93 

seau,  D'Alembert,  Helvetius,  Condorce.t,  Diderot,  Godwin, 
and  a  host  of  worthies  of  a  similar  description,  while  they 
are  all  received  with  the  most  obsequious  homage  and  cour- 
tesy, crowned  with  undistinguished  honours,  and  dismissed 
with  a  like  philosophick  suavity  and  grace.  This  may  all  be 
regarded  as  appertaining  to  the  office,  and  comporting  with 
the  pretensions  of  the  modern  philosopher;  but  we  cannot 
withhold  the  observation,  that  it  appears  to  us  to  be  neither 
consistent  with  the  spirit,  nor  indicative  of  those  moral  feel- 
ings, which  should  characterize  the  faithful  friend  and  zeal- 
ous advocate  of  truth  and  righteousness. 

To  proceed  from  this  short  digression  in  stating  the  opi- 
nions of  the  Professor.  "  It  seems   now,"  says  he,  "  to  be 
pretty  generally  agreed  among  philosophers,  that  there  is  no 
instance  in   which   we  are  able  to  perceive  a  necessary  con- 
nection between  two  successive  events,  or  to  comprehend  in 
what  manner  the  one   proceeds  from  the  other   as  a  cause. 
From  experience  we  learn  that  there  are  many  events  which 
are  constantly  conjoined,  so  that  the  one  invariably  follows 
the  other;  but  it  is  possible,  for  any  thing  that  we  know  to  the 
contrary,  that  this  connexion,  though  a  constant  one,  may  not 
be  a  necessary  connexion;  nay,  it  is  possible,  that  there  may 
be   no  necessary  connexions  among  any  of  the  phenomena 
which  we  see;  and  if  there  be  any  such  connections  existing, 
we  may  rest  assured  that  we  shall  never  be  able  to  discover 
them."     Again — "  ijie  word  cause  is  used,  both  by  philoso- 
phers and  the  vulgar,  in  two  senses,  which  are  widely  differ- 
ent: when  it  is  said  that  every  change  in  nature  indicates  the 
operation  of  a  cause,  the  word   cause  expresses  something 
which  is  supposed    to  be    necessarily  connected    with  the 
change,  and  without  which  it  could  not  have  happened.  This 
may  be  called  the  metaphysical  meaning  of  the  word,  and 
such  causes  may  be  called  metaphysical  or  efficient  causes. 
In  natural  philosophy,  however,  when  we  speak  of  one  thing 
being  the  cause  of  another,  all  that  we  mean  is,  that  the  two 


04  Opinions  of  Profe/isor  Stewart. 

are  constantly  conjoined,  so  that  when  we  see  the  one  >vc 
ma\  expect  the  other.  The  causes  which  are  the  objects  of 
our  investigation  in  natural  philosophy,  may,  for  the  sake  of 
distinction,  be  called  physical  causes." 

Such  is  the  doctrine  held  upon  this  subject,  and  such  the 
ground  upon  which  it  is  defended.  "  It  seenns  now,"  says 
the  professor,  "  to  be  pretty  gt-nerally  agreed  among  philo- 
sophers, that  there  is  no  instance  in  which  we  are  able  to  per- 
ceive a  necessar)  connection  netween  two  successive  events, 
or  to  comprehend  in  what  manner  the  one  proceeds  from  the 
other  as  a  cause."  As  to  the  last  part  of  this  proposition, 
which  relates  to  the  possibility  of  our  comprehending  the 
manner  in  which  one  event  proceeds  from  the  other  as  its 
cause;  if  he  considers  this  a  part  of  the  new  system,  he  is 
entirely  mistaken,  since  no  philosopher,  who  understood  the 
limited  nature  of  the  human  faculties,  ever  supposed  him- 
self able  to  discover  the  mode  in  which  any  one  cause  gives 
rise  to  its  effect.  The  water  which  we  drink  quenches  our 
thirst,  and  the  food  which  we  eat  relieves  us  from  hunger 
and  sustains  our  bodies,  and  we  know  that  there  must  be  a 
power  or  virtue  in  water  and  food  to  produce  these  effects, 
or  they  would  not  have  taken  place;  but  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  thev  operate  upon  our  bodies  to  accomplish  these  pur- 
poses, philosophy  acknowledges  that  to  be  unknown  to  her. 
Many  passages  to  this  purport  might  be  adduced  from  Mr. 
Locke,  but  it  cannot  be  necessary,  as  it  isjregarded  in  science, 
as  an  established  and  incontrovertible  truth. 

The  peculiarity  in  the  Professor's  doctrine,  may,  there- 
fore, be  considered  as  contained  in  the  first  part  of  the  pro- 
position. "  It  is  now  pretty  generally  agreed  among  philo- 
sophers, that  there  is  no  instance  in  which  we  are  able  to  per- 
ceive a  necessary  connexion  between  two  successive  events." 
And  again,  he  explains.  "  From  experience,  indeed,  we  learn 
that  there  are  many  events  which  are  constantly  conjoined, 
so  that  the  one  invariably  follows  the  otherj  but  it  is  possible, 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart,  95 

for  any  thing  we  know  to  the  contrary,  that  this  conncsion, 
though  a  constant  one,  as  far  as  our  observation  has  reached, 
may  not  be  a  necessary  connexion.  Nay,  it  is  possible,  that 
there  may  be  no  necessary  connexions  among  any  of  the  phe- 
nomena which  we  see;  and  if  there  be  any  such  connexions 
existing,  we  may  be  assured  we  shall  never  be  able  to  dis- 
cover them."  This  is  the  argument,  or  one  of  the  arguments, 
by  which  Mr,  Hume  endeavours  to  overturn  the  doctrine 
of  causality  or  efficiency  in  objects  to  produce  their  effects; 
and  which  the  professor  admits  to  be  unanswerable,  as  far  as 
it  relates  to  the  natural  world.  The  professor  has  evidently 
allowed  himself  to  be  entrapped  in  the  snare,  which  Mr. 
Hume  has  laid  for  his  victims.  The  whole  force  of  the  rea- 
soning is  sapped,  and  the  subtilty  of  Mr.  Hume  revealed, 
by  adverting  to  the  ambiguity  with  which  he  chooses  to  em- 
ploy the  terms  necessary  connexion  between  causes  and  ef- 
fects, which  he  would  consider  as  equivalent  to  the  expres- 
sions, efficiency  in  causes  to  produce  their  effects.  We  find 
the  Professor  imbibing  his  notions  from' Mr.  Hume,  and  ac- 
cordingly giving  this  as  the  usual  acceptation  of  the  term 
cause.  "  When  it  is  said  that  every  change  in  nature  indi- 
cates the  operation  of  a  cause,  the  word  cause  expresses 
something  necessarily  connected  with  the  change,  and  with- 
out which  it  could  not  have  happened."  Here  we  find  an 
entirely  new  definition  of  the  term  cause,  embracing  a  wider 
latitude  of  meaning  than  any  before  annexed  to  it.  Nov/,  is  it 
possible  for  the  narrow  mind  of  man  to  decide,  that  there  are 
any  two  events  in  the  whole  compass  of  the  moral  and  phy- 
sical world,  which  are  so  necessarily  connected  together  that 
the  one  could  not  have  existed  without  the  other?  The  only 
single  object  which  we  are  able  to  conceive,  that  could  not 
possibly  have  existed  witho^ut  another,  is  the  universe  with- 
out a  God  to  create  it;  for  we  are  sure  that  God  might  exist 
without  the  universe,  as  it  was  not  an  act  of  necessity  that 
he  formed  it,  but  of  choice.     So  then,  if  it  be  true,   that  a 


96  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart. 

cause  is  something  so  necessarily  connected  with  its  effect, 
that  without  it  that  effect  could  not  have  happened,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  there  can  be  but  one  such  single  and  sole  cause  in 
the  universe,  and   that  is  the  Creator  himself.     For  put  the 
matter,  for  a  moment,  to  the  trial  of  a  few  examples,  taken 
from  the  physical  and  moral  world.    Fire  burns   us,  and  we 
are  sure  from  our  sensation,  that  there  must  be  in  the   fire 
power  to  produce  that  effect  upon  us;  but  can  we  be  certain, 
that  the  sensation  of  heat  in  us,  and   the   operation   of  that 
power  in  fire,  are  so  inseparably  connected  together,  that  the 
one  could  not  have  happened  without  the  action  of  the  other? 
-  Could  not  God  have  contrived  other  methods  of  affecting  our 
senses  in  the  same  way,  or  have  done  it  by  his  own  imme- 
diate agency?     The  same   reasoning  will   apply   with  equal 
force  in  reference  to  mind.     Not  a  thought,  volition,  desire, 
voluntary  exertion,  of  which  God  himself  could  not  be  the 
author,  without  the  exercise  of  our  powers.     Not  one  of 
those  effects,  which  are  always  regarded  to  be  caused  by  the 
exertion  of  our  mental  powers,  which  God  himself  might  not 
have  brought  about  in  a  way  different  from   that  which  he 
has  now  established,  and  which,  of  consequence,  cannot  be 
considered  as  so  necessarily  connected  with  the   exertion  of 
those  powers,  that,  without  them,  they  could  not  have  hap- 
pened.    I  repeat  it,  therefore,  if  by  the  word  cause  be  meant 
something  so  necessarily  connected  with  its  effect  that,  with- 
out it,  that  effect  would  not  have  taken  place,  there  can  be  but 
one  great  cause  both  in  the  physical   and  moral  world,  and 
we  are  completely  landed  in  the  mystical  and  incomprehen- 
sible theory  of  Father  Mallebranche.    Here,  then,  God,  who 
was  before,  as  we  have  seen,  made  the  immediate  operating 
cause  of  both  evil  and  good  in   the   physical   world,   is   now 
made  equally  the  immediate  operating  cause  of  all   evil  as 
well  as  good  in  the  moral;  and  the  free   agency  of  man  to- 
gether with  all  accountabilit}^  to  his  Maker  are  at  once  up- 
rooted.    When  the  traitor  betrays  his   country,  or  the  child 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart.  97 

puts  his  father  to  death;  when  the  assassin  cuts  off  his  bene- 
factor, or  the  suicide  throws  back  indignantly  into  the  face 
of  his  Creator  that  existence  which  he  had  communicated; 
all  these  culprits  are  become  irresponsible  agents,  and  are  no 
longer  criminal,  for  God  is  the  sole  and  immediate  operating 
cause  in  all  these  transactions.  In  a  word,  under  a  theory  of 
this  kind,  God  is  the  true  author  of  all  the  blasphemies, 
treacheries,  adulteries,  murders,  and  the  whole  train  of  en- 
ormities which  are  perpetrated  among  mankind.  Father 
Mallebranche  laboured  hard,  indeed,  to  relieve  his  doctrine 
from  these  formidable  objections;  but,  although  we  cannot 
but  award  him  the  praise  of  having  connected  with  his  sys- 
tem great  sincerity  and  zeal  in  its  cause,  together  with  an  ar- 
dent, though  mystical  piety,  yet  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  he 
was  unable  to  defend  it.  We  had  thought,  that  this  mysti- 
cal theory  had  passed  away  as  the  tale  of  other  times,  until 
we  find  principles  stated,  that  lead  to  it  by  inevitable  conse- 
quence in  the  writings  of  the  Professor.  Does  the  Profes- 
sor, then,  show  himself  in  his  works  to  be  a  disciple  of  Mal- 
lebranche? Evidently  not:  for  neither  do  we  find  in  his  pro- 
ductions, any  of  that  spirit  of  piety  which  breathes  through 
the  works  of  that  venerable  father,  nor  does  his  language  in 
any  part  imply,  that  he  intends  to  extend  his  doctrine  farther 
than  to  exclude  all  causation  from  the  events  of  the  physical 
world;  and  as  to  Mr.  Hume,  nothing  could  be  more  remote 
from  his  views  or  his  principles  than  to  acknowledge  the  im- 
mediate action  of  the  Creator  throughout  the  universe.  The 
Professor  certainly  does  not  perceive  the  consequences  to 
which  this  doctrine  of  Mr.  Hume,  which  he  unwarily  adopts, 
unavoidably  conducts  him.  He,  in  one  of  his  notes,  indeed, 
informs  us  that  IMallebranche  deduced  his  conclusion  from 
premises  very  nearly  the  same  with  Mr.  Hume's,  the  fallacy 
of  which  in  the  extent  to  which  it  is  applied,  we  shall  soon 
detect;  but  he  no  where  avows  himself  to  have  embraced  the 
principles  of  that  father. 

N 


98  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart. 

The  fallacy  of  Mr.  Hume,  on  this  point,  consists  in  con- 
founding two  things  that  are  entirely  distinct,  necessary  con- 
nection between  causes  and  effects,  with  efficiency  in  causes 
to  produce  their  effects.  We  may  be  perfectly  satisfied  that  a 
cause  has  power  and  efficiency  to  produce  its  effect,  and  that 
in  the  exercise  of  that  power  it  operates  under  the  influence 
of  necessary  laws,  or  laws  over  which  it  has  no  controul, 
without  there  being  supposed  between  it  and  its  effect,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  such  a  necessary  connection,  that  the  one 
could  not  have  taken  place  without  the  other.  The  sun 
gives  us  light  and  heat,  and  we  are  sure  as  things  are  now 
constituted  there  must  be  a  power  in  that  luminary  to  pro- 
duce these  results;  but  it  is  impossible  for  the  mind  of  man 
to  say,  that  these  things  are  so  inseparably  united,  that  the  in- 
finite power  and  wisdom  of  the  Creator  might  not  have  oc- 
casioned the  one  without  the  intermediation  of  the  other. 
When  we  witness  any  effect,  indeed,  we  are  sure  of  one 
thing  only;  and  that  is,  that  there  must  be  some  cause,  as 
this  is  a  truth  confirmed  by  invariable  experience,  and  by  the 
abstract  conclusions  of  the  understanding;  but  of  what  na- 
ture that  cause  is,  we  can  derive  only  from  observation,  or, 
in  the  case  of  the  Creator,  from  an  examination  of  his  works 
and  from  revelation.  Neither  is  it  possible  to  the  human 
mind  to  determine  a  priori,  or  by  any  strict  rules  of  demon- 
stration that  the  efficiency  which  we  have  found  in  causes, 
in  one  or  two  or  more  cases,  will  always  inhere  in  that 
collection  of  sensible  qualities.  This  is  a  lesson  to  be  learnt 
only  from  experience;  and  upon  our  continued  experience 
it  must  rest  as  its  foundation,  as  there  are  no  abstract  argu- 
ments that  can  minister  in  this  case  to  its  support  or  confir- 
mation. But  does  this  consideration  render  the  proof  less 
satisfactory  to  a  reasonable  mind,  diminish  its  confidence  in 
the  stability  of  the  order  of  nature,  or  justify  the  scepticism 
of  Mr.  Hume  when  he  maintains,  that  we  have  no  good 
ground  of  reasoning  from  the  past  and  present  to  the  future. 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart.  99 

would  vacate  all  the  lessons  of  experience,  destroy  the  force 
of  the  whole  argument  from  induction,  and,  thereby  upturn 
the  foundation  of  experimental  and  moral  science?    "VVe  can- 
not strictly  demonstrate  that  fire   will  burn  us   to-morrow, 
or  water  drown  us,  the  sun  rise  and  set,  or  the  tides  ebb  and 
flow  in  our  rivers;  but  does  this  consideration  lessen  our  con- 
fidence that  all   these   events  will  take   place?     This  view  of 
the  matter  will  serve  to  explain  to  the  Professor,  what  he  has 
quoted  from  Dr.  Barrow  and  others,  in   a  note  on  this  sub- 
ject, and  seems  not  rightly  to  have  understood;  and  will  con- 
vince him  that  that  Great  Philosopher  and  eloquent  preacher, 
instead  of  agreeing  with   him   and   Mr.  Hume   in  asserting, 
that  there  is  no  efficiency  in  natural  causes,  expressly  recog- 
nizes in  his  very  modes  of  expression  an  opposite  doctrine. 
*'  That  the  object  of  the  physical  inquirer,  "  says  the  Profes- 
sor," is  not  to  trace  necessary  connections,  or  to  ascertain  the 
efficient  causes  of  phenomena  (here  we  see  to  trace  necessary 
connections,  and  ascertain    efficient  causes,  are   considered 
by  Mr.  Stewart  equivalent  expressions),  is  a  principle  which 
has  been    frequently   ascribed   to    Mr.    Hume  as  its  author, 
both  by  his  followers  and  his  opponents;  but  it  is  in  fact  of  a 
much  earlier  date,  and  has  been  maintained  by  many  of  the 
most  enlightened,  and  the  least  sceptical  of  our  modern  phil- 
osophers: nor  do  I  know  that  it  was  ever  suspetted  to  have 
a  dangerous   tendency  until  the  publication  of  Mr.  Hume's 
writings.     If  we  except,  says  Dr.  Barrow,  the  mutual  caus- 
ality and  dependence  of  a  mathematical  demonstration,  I  do 
not  think  that  there  is  any   other  causality,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  wherein  a  necessary   consequence  can   be   founded. 
Logicians  do  indeed  boast  of,  I  do  not  know  what  kind  of 
demonstration  from  external  causes  either  efficient   or  final, 
but  without  being  able  to  show  one  genuine  example  of  an}- 
such;  nay,  I  imagine    it  is  impossible   for  them   to   do    so. 
For  there  can  be  no  such  connection    of  an  external  efficient 
cause  with  its  effect,  through  which,  strictly  speaking,  the  ef- 


100  opinions  of  Professor  Stewart- 

feet  is  necessarily  supposed  by   the  supposition   of  the  effi- 
cient cause,  or  any  determinate  cause  by  the  supposition  of 
the  effect.     Therefore,  there  can  be  no  argumentation  from 
an  efficient  cause  to  the  effect,  or  from  an  effect  to  the  cause, 
which     is    strictly    necessary."      The    observations    before 
made,  afford  a  sufficient   key  to  explain  this   opinion  of  Dr. 
Barrow,  and  shov/  that  it  is  perfectly  just  and  true;  but  at  the 
same  time  instead  of  answering  the  purpose  for  which  it  was 
brought  by  the  Professor,  namely,  to  prove  that  causes  in  the 
natural  world  are  not  considered  by  Dr.   Barrow    as  efficient 
causes,  that  it  is  in  direct  hostility  to  it.  Dr.  Barrow  all  along 
speaks  of  external  causes  as  efficient  or  final,  of  demonstration 
from  external  efficient  causes,  thereby   proving,  beyond  any 
doubt,  that  he  considers  external  causes  as  true  efficients.  But 
Dr.  Barrow,  it  is  said,  avows,  that  there  can  be  no  such  con- 
nection of  an  external  efficient  causf"  with  its  effect,  through 
which,  strictly  speaking,  the  effect   is  necessarily  supposed 
by  the  supposition  of  the  efficient  cause,  or  any  determinate 
cause  by  the  supposition  of  the    effect."     This   is  true,  and 
amounts  to  the  doctrine   we   have  before   inculcated.     That 
is  to  say,  Dr.  Barrow  maintains,  that  although   by   an  evi- 
dence satisfactory  to  the  mind,  we  have  ascertained  that  the 
influence  of  the  sun  and  moon  causes  the  rising  and  falling  of 
the  tides  in   our  river,  we  cannot  prove  by  strict  demonstra- 
tion or  necessary  consequence,  that  although   the   cause   or 
influence  of  the  sun  and  moon    should  subsist,  it  must  una- 
voidably produce  that  effect,  or  the  rising  and  falling  of  the 
tides  in  future^  or,  if  we  suppose   the   cfl'ect   to   have    taken 
place,  it  must  unavoidably  have  resulted  from  that  determin- 
ate cause.    This,  no  person  who  understands  the  subject  will 
pretend  to  deny;  and  to  maintain  a  contrary  doctrine  would 
be  to  confound  the  different  degrees  of  evidence  upon  which 
our  knowledge  rests.     We  can  no  more   attain  to  strict  de- 
monstration in  the  science  of  nature,  than  we  should  be  con- 
tented with  the  ground  on  which  inductive  reasonings  rest 
A 


Opimoits  of  Professor  Stewart.  101 

in  pure  mathematicks.  The  only  proof  we  have  that  the 
Bun  will  rise  to-morrow,  and  the  tides  flow,  or  that  the  whule 
course  of  nature  may  not  undergo  a  complete  change,  is  de- 
rived from  an  experience  of  the  uniformity  of  its  operations 
hitherto;  and  if  we  are  not  contented  with  this  degree  of 
proof,  the  Creator  furnishes  us  with  no  better;  and  if  we  re- 
post  not  confidence  in  the  order  of  nature,  until  we  shall 
prove  its  stability  by  strict  and  mathematical  demonstration, 
we  shall  never  do  so. 

But,  if  any  one  is  inclined  to  think  that  I  have  given  a 
wrong  interpretation  to  Dr.  Barrow's  meaning,  hear  him 
speak  further  in  illustracion  of  his  doctrine.  In  his  sixth 
mathematical  lecture,  after  expressing  himself  as  has  been 
already  mentioned,  he  proceeds.  "  For  every  action  of  an 
efficient  cause,  as  well  as  its  consequent  effect,  depends 
upon  the  free  will  and  power  of  Almighty  God,  who  can 
hinder  the  influx  and  efficacy  of  any  cause,  at  his  pleasure; 
neither  is  there  any  effect  so  confined  to  one  cause,  but  it 
may  be  produced  by  perhaps  innumerable  others.  Hence 
it  is  possible  that  there  may  be  such  a  cause  without  a 
subsequent  effect,  or  such  an  effect  and  no  peculiar 
cause.  Because  there  is  fire,  it  does  not  necessarily  fol- 
low that  there  is  fuel  for  it  to  feed  on  or  smoke  sent 
from  it,  since  history  relates  that,  in  fact,  it  has  happened 
otherwise.  Neither,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  necessary  ex- 
istence of  fire  inferred  from  ashes  or  smoke.  For  who 
doubts  but  God  can  immediately  create  ashes  and  smoke,  or 
produce  it  by  other  means?  In  like  manner,  from  that  most 
celebrated  and  trite  example  of  a  demonstration  from  the 
efficient  cause  which  is  used  by  Aristotle  and  other  writers 
of  logick,  of  the  Earth's  interposition  between  the  sun  and 
moon,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  moon  undergoes  an  Eclipse; 
for  if  God  please,  the  Solar  rays  may  pass  through  the  body 
of  the  Earth,  or  reach  the  moon  by  an  indirect  passage, 
without  touching  the  Earth;  or  otherwise  the  moon  may  be 
enlightened  some  other  way.     Nay,  the  sun  itself  does  not 


102  Opinions  of  Professor  Steiuart. 

infer  light;  for  at  the  death  of  our  Lord,  the  setting  of  the 
better  light  of  the  world,  the  sun,  as  if  struck  with  fear  and 
confounded  with  shame,  drew  in  his  rays  and  hid  his  face, 
and  even  at  noon  day  suflered  an  Eclipse  without  any  moon 
to  intercept  his  light,  or  any  cloud  to  darken  his  brightness. 
A  defect  of  light,  then,  cannot  be  concluded  from  the  inter- 
position of  an  opaque  body,  nor  this  from  that.  I  own,  ac- 
cording to  the  law  and  custom  of  nature,  that  such  effects  do 
always  proceed  from  such  causes;  but,  in  reality,  it  is  one 
thing  to  happen  naturally,  and  another  to  exist  of  necessity. 
For  necessary  propositions  have  an  universal,  immutable  and 
eternal  truth,  subject  to  nothing,  nor  to  be  hindered  by  any 
power.  Because,  therefore,  the  efficacy  of  agents  may  be 
stopped  or  changed,  and  every  effect  may  proceed  from 
various  causes,  there  can  be  no  demonstration  from  an  effi- 
cient cause,  or  from  an  effect." 

We  shall  conplude  these  strictures  upon  the  doctrines  of 
the  Professor  upon  cause  and  effect,  by  briefly  descanting 
upon  his  peculiarities.  "  In  consequence  of  the  inferences," 
says  he,  "  which  Mr.  Hume  has  deduced  from  this  doctrine 
concerning  cause  and  effect,  some  late  authors  have  been  led 
to  dispute  its  truth;  not  perceiving  that  the  fallacy  of  Mr. 
Hume's  system  does  not  consist  in  his  premises,  but  in  the 
conclusion  which  he  draws  from  theni."  This  to  be  sure,  is 
speaking  in  very  complacent  terms  of  the  premises  of  Mr. 
Hume,  and  greatly  calculated  to  palliate  their  atrocious  na- 
ture in  the  estimation  of  his  readers;  and  at  the  same  time 
paying  no  very  flattering  compliment  to  the  ingenuity  of  that 
celebrated  atheist,  since  it  implies,  that  he  has  constructed  his 
premises  with  so  little  address,  that  two  directly  contradictory 
conclusions  may  be  drawn  from  them,  that  there  is  a  God,  and 
that  there  is  no  God.  Mr.  Hume,  thick  as  is  the  cloud  in 
which  he  frequently  chooses  to  involve  himself,  and  full  of  jar- 
gon as  is  his  metaphysical  language,  knew  better  than  all  this 
how  to  draw  his  readers  towards  his  sceptical  conclusions. 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart.  103 

Which  of  the  premises  of  Mr.  Hume  would  the  Professor 
admit,  and  yet  avoid  the  force  of  his  conclusion?  Does  he 
imagine,  that  all  the  premises  of  Mr.  Hume  are  concentrated 
in  those  two  propositions,  we  can  discover  no  power  or  efficacy 
in  causes  to  produce  their  effects,  and  there  is  no  necessary 
connexion  between  effects  and  causes?  This  seems  to  be  im- 
plied in  what  he  remarks  on  this  subject  relative  to  Father 
Mallebranche,  "^  this  accordingly  was  the  conclusion  which 
Mallebranche  deduced  from  premises  very  nearly  the  same 
with  Mr.  Hume's."  The  shade  of  that  venerable  and  truly 
philosophick  Father,  methinks,  would  frown  with  indignation 
upon  any  one  who  should  presume  to  accuse  him  of  abetting 
such  abominable  principles  as  those  of  Mr.  Hume.  How 
easy  a  task  to  throw  philosophical  subjects  into  confusion  and 
obscurity;  how  difficult  the  task  to  present  them  in  a  clear 
and  satisfactory  point  of  light!  Let  us  hear  Mallebranche 
speak  for  himself,  and  we  shall  then  be  able  to  discover  how 
nearly  his  principles  approach  to  Mr.  Hume's* — "  11  y  a," 
says  he,  "  bien  des  raisons  qui  m'empechent  d'attribuer 
aux  causes  secondes  ou  naturelles,  une  force,  une  puissance, 
une  efficace  pour  produire  quoi  que  ce  soit — Mais  la  princi- 
pals est  que  cette  opinion  ne  me  paroit  pas  meme  conceva- 
ble.  Quelq'  effort  que  je  fasse  pour  la  comprendre,  je  ne  puis 
trouver  en  moi  d'idee  qui  me  represente  ceque  ce  peut-etre 
que  la  force  ou  la  puissance  qu'on  attribue  aux  creatures. 
Et  je  ne  crois  pas  meme  faire  de  jugement  temeraire  d'as- 
surer  qui  soutiennent  que  les  creatures  sont  en  elles-memes  de 
la  force  et  de  la  puissance,  avancent  ce  qu  ils  ne  con(;oivent 
point  clairement.  Car,  enfin,  si  les  philosophes  concevoient 
clairement  que  les  causes  secondes  ont  ime  veritable  force 
pour  agir  et  pour  produire  leur  sembable,  etant  homme  aussi 
bien  que'ux  et  participant  comme  eux  a  la  souveraine 
raison;  je  pourrois  apparement  decouvrir  I'idee  qui  leur  re- 

*  Book  6,  part  2,  ch.  3.  Touchant  Tefficace  attribuees  avx  causes  se- 
condes. 


104  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart, 

presente  cette  force.  Mais  quelq'  effort  d'esprit  que  je  fassc, 
je  ne  puis  trouver  de  force,  d'efficace,  de  puissance,  que  dans 
la  volunte  de  I'etre  infinement  parfait."  Again,  he  says, 
"  Mais  non  seulement  les  hommes  ne  sont  point  les  veritables 
causes  des  mouvemens  qu'ils  produisent  dans  leur  corps,  il 
semble  meme  qu'il  y  ait  contradiction  qu'ils  puissent  I'etre; 
Cause  veritable,  est  une  cause  entre  laqueile  et  son  effet  I'es- 
prit  apper9oit  une  liaison  necessaire,  c'est  ainsi  que  je  I'en- 
tens.  Or,  il  n'y  a  que  I'etre  infiniment  parfait,  entre  la  volunte 
du  quel  et  ses  effets  I'esprit  appergoive  une  liaison  nects- 
saire.  II  n'y  a  done  que  Dieu  qui  soit  veritable  cause,  et  qui 
ait  veritablement  la  puissance  de  mouvoir  les  corps,  Je  dis 
de  plus,  qa'il  n'  est  pas  concevable  que  Dieu  puisse  commu- 
niquer  aux  hommes  ou  aux  Anges  la  puissance,  qu'il  a  de 
remuer  les  corps:  et  que  ceux  qui  prelendent,  que  le  pouvoir 
que  nous  avons  de  remuer  nos  bras,  est  une  veritable  puis- 
sance, doivent  avouer  que  Dieu  peut  aussi  donner  aux  es- 
prits  la  puissance  de  creer,  d'anneantir,  de  faire  toutes  les 
choses  possibles;  et  en  un  mot,  qu'il  peut  les  rendre  tout- 
puissans."  However  indefensible  we  may  deem  the  princi- 
ples of  Mallebranche,  and  the  extravagant  and  absurd  lengths 
to  which  he  extends  them,  render  their  refutation  altogether 
superfluous,  we  cannot  but  perceive  the  very  essential  and 
important  distinction  between  them,  and  those  which  are 
maintained  by  Mr.  Hume.  Those  of  the  one,  introduce  God 
as  immediately  and  constantly  operating  throughout  the  whole 
structure  and  course  of  nature;  those  of  the  other  totally  ex- 
clude him,  and  lead  to  a  denial  of  his  being  and  providence. 
You  cannot  admit  the  premises  of  Mallebranche,  without  al- 
lowing his  conclusion,  neither  can  you  those  of  Hume.  And 
what  are  the  points  which  constitute  this  essential  distinction? 
They  are  the  following — Mallebranche  cannot  discover  an 
idea  which  represents  to  him  any  force,  efficacy  or  power  in 
finite  beings,  and  can  clearly  conceive  of  these  as  subsisting 
only  in  the  will  of  a  perfect  Being.    Mr.  Hume  denies,  that 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart.  105 

we  have  any  idea  of  power  or  efficacy  in  any  being  whatever. 
■  Mallebranche   defines  a  true   cause  to  be  a  cause,  between 
which  and  its  effect,  the  mind  perceives  a  necessary  connec- 
tion, (une  liaison  necessaire)  and  asserts  that  this  necessary 
connection  can  subsist  only  between  God  and  the   universe; 
Mr.  Hume  gives  the   same  definition   of  a   cause,  but  sup- 
poses that  this  necessary  connection  can  in  no   case  be  per- 
ceived.    Mallebranche    confines    all    efficiency    to  one    sole 
cause;  but   Hume  maintains    that    we    have    no    reason    to 
conclude  that  there  is  any  efficiency  in  any  cause  whatever, 
and  reduces   us  to    the   necessity  of   admitting    an    eternal 
succession  of  objects.     Mallebranche  recognises  in  the  very 
structure    of   his   argument  the  immutable    truth,  that  for 
every  effect  there  must  be  a  cause,  but  concludes  that  this 
cause  in  all  cases   is   God  alone;  Hume  denies   the  truth  of 
that  maxim,  and  endeavours  to  demonstrate  that  we  have  no 
good  reason  to  admit  it,  and  of  course  uproots  the  very  foun- 
dation of  the  argument  in  proof  of  a  God.    So  little  ground, 
therefore,  is  there  for  the  representation   of  the    Professor, 
that  the  conclusions  of  the  one  are  deduced  from   premises 
very  nearly  the  same  with  those  of  the  other!     They  are  as 
widely  different  from  each  other,  as  the  principles  of  a  mis- 
taken and  mystical  theism  can  be  from  those  of  a  rank  and 
unblushing  atheism. 

The  account  which  the  professor  gives  of  "  that  bias  of 
the  mind,"  which  leads  us  to  conceive  that  physical  events  are 
somehow  linked  -together,  and  that  material  substances  are 
possessed  of  certain  powers  and  virtues  which  fit  them  to 
produce  particular  effects,  is  really  a  philosophical  curiosity, 
and  on  this  account  alone  worthy  of  insertion  here.  "  It  is  a 
curious  question,"  says  he,  "  what  gives  rise  to  this  prejudice? 
In  stating  the  argument  for  the  existence  of  the  Deity  seve- 
ral modern  philosophers  have  been  at  pains  to  illustrate  that 
law  of  our  nature,  which  leads  us  to  refer  every  change  we 
perceive  to   the  nperntion   of  an  efficient  cause.     This  refer- 

o 


106  Opinions  of  Professor  Stewart, 

ence  is  not  the  result  of  reasoning,  but  necessarily  accom- 
panies the  perception,  so  as  to  render  it  impossible  for  us  to 
see  the  change  without  feeling  a  conviction  of  the  operation 
of  some  cause  by  which  it  was  produced;  much  in  the  same 
manner,  in  which  we  find  it  impossible  to  conceive  a  sensa- 
tion without  being  impressed  with  a  belief  of  the  existence 
of  a  sentient  Being.  Hence,  I  apprehend  it  is,  that  when  we 
see  two  events  constantly  conjoined,  we  are  led  to  associate 
the  idea  of  causation  or  efficiency  with  the  former,  and  to 
refer  to  it  that  power  or  energy  by  which  the  change  was 
produced;  in  consequence  of  which  association  we  come  to 
consider  philosophy  as  a  knowledge  of  efficient  causes,  and 
lose  sight  of  the  operation  of  mind  in  producing  the  phe- 
nomena of  nature.  It  is  by  an  association  somewhat  simi- 
lar, that  we  connect  our  sensation  of  colour  with  the  prima- 
ry qualities  of  body.  A  moment's  reflection  must  satisfy 
any  one,  that  the  sensation  of  colour  can  only  reside  in  the 
mind  (by  the  by,  it  took  philosophers  some  time  and 
study  to  discover  this);  and  yet  our  natural  bias  is  surely  to 
connect  colour  with  extension  and  figure,  and  to  conceive 
white,  blue,  yellow  as  something  spread  over  the  surfaces  of 
body.  In  the  same  way  we  are  led  to  associate  with  inani- 
mate matter  the  ideas  of  power,  force,  energy  and  causation, 
which  are  all  attributes  of  mind." 

By  those  persons  who  read  merely  for  amusement,  and 
who  are  entirely  satisfied,  if  they  find  in  the  author,  whose 
pages  they  are  perusing,  sounding  phrases  and  well  turned 
periods;  and  who,  when  they  cannot  comprehend  his  mean- 
ing from  the  obscurity  of  his  illustrations,  imagine  it  to  be 
very  profound  for  that  very  reason,  this  account  of  the  phe- 
nomenon supposed  to  exist,  and  attempted  to  be  explained, 
may  be  deemed  satisfactory.  But  to  those  whose  province 
it  is  to  study  and  understand  what  they  read,  and  develop, 
faithfully  and  truly,  the  operations  of  nature,  never  surely 
could  there  be  presented  a  specimen  of  a  more  abortive  at- 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart.  107 

tempt  to  philosophise.  To  make  good  our  assertions,  let  us 
examine,  for  a  moment,  the  solution  here  attempted  to  be 
furnished  of  a  phenomenon  in  the  moral  world.  These  wri- 
ters of  the  late  school  of  metaphysicks,  having  discovered  in 
the  structure  of  our  nature  an  instinct  perspicacious  enough 
to  induce  us  to  refer  every  effect  to  an  efficient  cause,  and 
moreover  to  penetrate  into  the  deep  and  m}  sterious  doctrine, 
that  mind  alone  can  be  the  efficient  cause  of  any  thing;  have 
now  to  explain  by  what  bias  or  prejudice  it  is,  that  when  we 
approach  the  fire,  we  are  so  childish  as  to  conclude  that 
there  is  any  power  in  fire  to  produce  in  us  the  sensation  of 
heat,  instead  of  referring  the  sensation  at  once  to  mind,  the 
real  cause.  Mark  now,  the  solution;  although  I  am  afraid 
it  will  not  be  found  so  satisfactory  as  that  of  Gallileo  above 
referred  to.  From  finding  that  fire  and  our  sensation  of 
heat  are  always  conjoined  together,  we  associate  the  idea  of 
power  in  fire  with  that  element,  as  we  do  sensation  with  the 
existence  of  a  sentient  Being;  or  as  we  do  colours,  for  in- 
stance, white,  blue,  yellow,  with  the  primary  qualities 
of  body  as  extension,  figure,  solidity,  &c."  Such  is  the  so- 
lution, which  is  certainly  entirely  original;  and  if  any  one 
feels  disposed  to  be  satisfied  with  it,  we  have  only  to  recom- 
mend to  him,  to  pore  over  the  pages  of  Newton,  Locke,  Ba- 
con and  Clarke,  and  he  will  learn  to  repudiate  fruitless  dis- 
quisitions. 

We  have  only  one  single  view  more  to  take  of  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Professor  on  cause  and  eft'ect,  and  we  have 
done;  but  this  view  is  a  very  serious  one.  We  may  be 
thought  singular  in  our  opinion,  but  we  do  not  hesitate  to 
consider  his  doctrines  upon  this  point,  as  having  a  porten- 
tous aspect  towards  religion  and  morality,  and  verging 
strongly  towards  atheism.  The  immediate  reference  of  all 
the  phenomena  of  nature  in  the  physical  world  to  the  agency 
of  mind  or  the  Supreme  Being,  spreads  over  his  system  a 
specious  appearance  of  truth    and  orthodoxy,  but  it  is  only 


108  Ophiions  of  Professor  Stewart, 

a  specious  appearance,  and  delusive.  We  will  not  say  that 
atheism  was  ever  intended  to  be  inculcated  by  the  Professor, 
although  we  cannot  relish  the  very  favourable  and  softened 
terms  in  which  he  always  refers  to  the  principles  of  Mr. 
Hume.  Independently  of  this  consideration,  however,  we 
do  assert,  that  the  ground  taken  by  him  is  a  very  dangerous 
one,  and  that  his  system  carries  in  its  bosom  the  seeds  of  its 
own  speedy  destruction;  and  if  confided  in,  in  its  ruins 
might  be  buried  the  interests  of  those  truths  to  which  it  os- 
tensibly essays  to  extend  a  feeble  and  ineffectual  support. 
He  admits  in  their  utmost  extent  the  premises  of  Mr.  Hume; 
avowing  that  the  fallacy  of  his  argument  does  not  consist  in 
his  premises,  but  in  the  conclusions  which  he  draws  from 
them.  He  adopts,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  the  principles 
of  Mr.  Hume,  as  far  as  relates  to  the  physical  world;  and 
maintains,  that  we  have  no  reason  to  believe  that  there  are 
any  such  things  as  efficient  causes  to  be  found  in  it.  We 
have  already  shown  that,  by  parity  of  reasoning,  we  may  de- 
ny all  efficacy  in  all  moral  causes,  save  the  Deity  alone. 
He  allows  that  Mr.  Hume  has  shown  that  the  maxim,  for 
every  effect  in  nature  there  must  be  a  cause,  can  be  proved 
neither  from  intuition,  reason,  or  experience;  and  asserts,  that 
we  derive  it  solely  from  an  instinctive  and  original  principle 
in  the  constitution  of  our  nature.  The  whole  foundation  of 
the  argument,  upon  which  is  constructed  the  infinitely  im- 
portant truth  of  the  existence  of  God,  is  thus  made  to  rest 
upon  the  evidence  we  derive  from  this  single  instinct.  All, 
therefore,  that  is  left  to  the  Atheist,  is  the  easy  task  of  prov- 
ing, that  we  are  possessed  of  no  such  instinctive  principle, 
and  his  mighty  fabrick  of  pretended  theism  crumbles  to  dust 
and  confusion.  Never  surely  was  a  wider  door  thrown  open, 
by  those  who  pretend  to  be  the  champions  of  theism,  for 
the  admission  of  atheistical  principles.  To  make  such  broad 
concessions  to  the  enemies  of  truth,  and  yet  expect  to  retain 
the  infinitely  important  doctrine  of  the  Being  of  a  God,  ap- 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewarts  109 

pears  to  us,  like  expecting  to  sustain  the  superstructure,  after 
we  have  allowed  the  foundation  to  be  demolished.  And  yet 
we  find  the  Professor,  as  if  totally  unapprised  of  the  danger^ 
ous  tendency  of  his  own  doctrine,  expressing  himself  in  the 
following  language.  "  For  however  important,"  says  he,  "  the 
positive  advantages  may  be,  which  are  to  be  expected  from 
the  future  progress  of  metaphysical  science,  they  are  by  no 
means  so  essential  to  human  improvement  and  happiness,  as 
a  satisfactory  refutation  of  that  sceptical  philosophy  which 
struck  at  the  root  of  all  knowledge  and  belief.  Such  a  re- 
futation seems  to  have  been  the  principal  object  which  Dr. 
Reid  proposed  to  himself  in  his  metaphysical  inquiries,  and 
to  this  object  his  labours  have  been  directed  with  so  much 
ability,  candour,  and  perseverance,  that,  unless  future  scep- 
ticks  should  occupy  a  ground  very  different  from  that  of 
their  predecessors,  it  is  not  likely  that  the  controversy  will 
be  ever  renewed."  From  the  sentiment  expressed  in  the 
concluding  part  of  this  paragraph,  we  crave  leave  entirely  to 
dissent.  The  controversy  with  scepticks,  it  is  true,  has  been 
removed  from  the  ground  on  which  it  was  formerly  main- 
tained, and  with  triumphant  success;  but  we  cannot  withhold 
the  opinion,  that  it  has  been  removed  from  a  place  of  safety 
to  that  of  extreme  danger,  where  it  is  protected  by  very  in- 
sufficient guards  and  fortifications;  and  we  must  still  be  ex- 
cused for  giving  a  decided  preference  to  enlisting  under  the 
banners  and  submitting  to  the  guidance  of  such  men  as 
Locke,  Clarke,  Mallebranche  and  Des  Cartes,  to  any  of 
those  who  have  succeeded  them,  and  have  undertaken  the 
task  of  filling  the  world  with  an  account  of  their  errors  and 
miscarriages.* 

*  Thomas  Brown,  M.  D.  professor  of  moral  philosophy  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Edinburgh,  carries  the  principles  of  Mr.  Stewart  to  their  ultimate 
excess.  He  says,  that  when  we  use  the  term  power,  we  as  much  make 
use  of  a  term  without  any  idea  annexed  to  it,  as  the  Peripateticks  did 
when  they  spoke  of  substantial  forms  and  occult  qualities.     He  affirms 


1 10  opinions  of  Professor  Stewart. 

We  cannot  take  leave  of  this  subject  of  cause  and  effect, 
in  language  more  expressive  of  the  sentiments  we  entertain, 
than  is  that  of  Mr.  Locke,  in  his  reply  to  the  unintelligible 
jargon  of  Mr.  Norris,  a  follower  of  Mallebranche.  "  Whether 
the  ideas  of  light  and  colour  come  in  by  the  eye  or  no;  it  is 
all  one  as  if  they  did,  for  those  who  have  no  eyes,  never  have 
them.  And  whether  or  no  God  has  appointed  that  a  certain 
modified  motion  of  the  fibres,  or  spirits  in  the  optic  nerve, 
should  excite  or  produce,  or  cause  them  in  us,  call  it  what 
you  please,  it  is  all  one  as  if  it  did;  since  where  there  is  no 
such  motion,  there  is  no  such  perception  or  idea.  For  I  hope 
they  will  not  deny  God  the  privilege  to  give  such  a  power 
to  motion,  if  he  pleases.  "  Yes,"  say  they,  "  they  be  the  oc- 
casional but  not  the  efficient  cause,  for  that  they  cannot  be,  be- 
cause that  is  in  effect  to  say,  he  has  given  this  motion  in  the 
optic  nerve  a  power  to  operate  on  himself,  but  cannot  give 
it  a  power  to  operate  on  the  mind  of  man.  It  may  by  this 
appointment  operate  on  himself,  the  impassible  infinite  Spirit, 
and  put  him  in  mind  when  he  is  to  operate  on  the  mind  of 
man,  and  exhibit  to  it  the  idea  which  is  in  himself  of  any  co- 
lour. The  Infinite  Eternal  God  is  certainly  the  cause  of  all 
things,  the  fountain  of  all  being  and  power.  But  because  all 
being  was  from  him,  can  there  be  nothing  but  God  himself? 
Or  because  all  power  was  originally  in  him,  can  there  be  no- 
thing of  it  communicated  to  his  creatures?  This  is  to  set 
very  narrow  bounds  to  the  power  of  God,  and  by  pretending 
to  extend  it,  takes  it  away.  For  which,  I  beseech  you,  as  we 
can  comprehend,  is  the  greatest  power;  to  make  a  machine,  a 

that  what  can  be  meant  by  power,  is  only  immediate  invariable  antece- 
dence. He  defines  cause  to  be  the  immediate  invariable  antecedent  in 
any  sequence;  while  the  immediate  invariable  consequent  is  the  correla- 
tive  effect.  Upon  the  principles  of  Dr.  Brown,  we  should  soon  see  all  the 
ridiculous  jargon  of  the  schools  revived.  Never  surely  since  the  days  of 
the  Schoolmen  have  there  been  published  such  works  as  his  upon  any  phi- 
losophical subject. 


opinions  of  Professor  Stewart,  111 

watch  for  example,  that  when  the  watchman  has  withdrawn 
his  hands,  shall  go  and  strike  by  the  fit  contrivance  of  the 
parts;  or  else  requires  that  whenever  the  hand  by  pointing  to 
the  hour,  minds  him  of  it,  he  should  strike  twelve  upon  the 
bell?  No  machine  of  God's  making  can  go  of  itself.  Why? 
Because  the  creatures  have  no  power,  can  neither  move  them- 
selves nor  any  thing  else.  How,  then,  comes  about  all  that 
we  see?  Do  they  do  nothing?  Yes — they  are  occasional 
causes  to  God,  why  he  should  produce  certain  thoughts  and 
motions  in  them.  The  creatures  cannot  produce  any  idea  or 
thought  in  man.  How,  then,  comes  he  to  perceive  or  to  think? 
God,  upon  the  occasion  of  some  motion  in  the  optic  nerve,  exhi- 
bits the  colour  of  a  marygold  or  a  rose  to  his  mind.  How  came 
that  motion  in  his  optic  nerve?  On  occasion  of  the  motion  of 
some  particles  of  light  striking  on  the  retina,  God  producing 
it,  and  so  on.  And  so,  whatever  a  man  thinks,  God  produces 
the  thought,  let  it  be  infidelity,  murmuring  or  blasphemy.  The 
mind  doth  nothing — his  mind  is  only  -the  mirror  that  receives 
the  ideas  that  God  exhibits  to  it,  and  just  as  God  exhibits 
them.  The  man  is  altogether  passive  in  the  whole  business 
of  thinking.  A  man  cannot  move  his  arm  or  his  tongue;  he 
has  no  power;  only  upon  occasion  the  man  willing  it,  God 
moves  it.  The  man  wills,  he  doth  something;  or  else  God 
upon  the  occasion  of  something  he  did  before,  produced  the 
will  and  this  action  in  him.  This  is  the  hypothesis  that  clears 
all  doubts,  and  brings  us  at  last  to  the  religion  of  Hobbes 
and  Spinoza,  by  resolving  all,  even  the  thoughts  and  will  of 
men,  into  an  irresistible  fatal  necessity.  For  whether  the 
original  of  it  be  from  the  continued  motion  of  eternal,  all- 
doing  matter,  or  from  an  omnipotent  immaterial  Being,  who 
having  begun  matter  and  motion,  continues  it  by  the  direc- 
tion of  occasions  which  he  himself  has  also  made;  as  to  reli- 
gion and  morality,  it  is  just  the  same  thing.  But  we  must 
know  how  every  thing  is  brought  to  pass,  and  thus  we  have 
it  resolved  without  leaving  any  difficultv  to  perplex  us.  But, 


il2  opinions  of  Professor  Stewart. 

perhaps,  it  would  better  become  us  to  acknowledge  our  ig- 
norance, than  to  talk  such  things  boldly  of  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel,  and  condemn  others  for  not  daring  to  be  as  unman- 
nerly as  ourselves." 


END  OF  BOOK  FIRST, 


BOOK  II.— CHAPTER  I. 


What  is  meant  by  solving  a  Phenomenon  in  JVature. 

In  treating  so  fully  of  the  subject  of  cause  and  effect,  we 
have  already  communicated  our  views  of  what  is  meant  by 
solying  a  phenomenon  in  nature.  Any  appearance  may  be 
regarded  as  completely  explained,  as  far  as  the  human  mind 
is  competent  to  explain  it,  when  it  is  referred  to  the  opera- 
tion of  some  cause  adequate  to  its  production,  and  when  the 
law  or  laws  under  which  that  cause  acted  have  been  ascer- 
tained. Thus  we  say  the  sun  is  the  cause  of  light  and  fire 
of  heat,  the  sun  and  moon  of  the  tides  and  the  electric  fluid 
of  lightning.  A  phenomenon  may  be  considered  as  partially 
explained,  although  it  may  be  sufficiently  for  all  practical 
purposes,  when  the  law  or  laws  are  ascertained  by  which 
some  unknown  cause  acts,  although  the  cause  itself  remains 
in  impenetrable  obscurity.  Thus  the  laws  of  that  principle 
which  causes  attraction  have  been  ascertained,  and  all  the 
appearances  of  the  heavenly  bodies  explained,  although  the 
cause  itself,  as  yet,  remains  hidden.  The  phenomena  and  the 
laws  relative  to  the  Gulf-stream  upon  our  Atlantic  coast,  are  all 
understood,  although  the  cause  of  that  singular  marine  flood 
has  never  been  assigned,  at  least  a  cause  that  can  be  consi- 
dered as  competent  to  the  effect;  and  thus  the  laws  or  func- 

p 


114  fVhat  is  meant  by  solving-^  &?c, 

tions  of  animal  life  may  all  be  developed  to  medical  science, 
while  the  cause  of  life  is  a  secret,  and  perhaps  will  always 
remain  a  secret,  except  to  him"  who  communicates  and  pre- 
serves it. 


CHAPTER  II 

Of  Metaphysical  Science. 

The  way  is  now  prepared  for  entering  upon  the  great  sub- 
ject of  our  investigation,  the  Science  of  the  Human  Mind.  The 
first  labourer  whose  name  has  been  conveyed  to  us  as  having 
toiled  in  this  field  with  any  success,  was  Aristotle.  The 
Schoolmen  appear  to  have  misinterpreted  and  abused  his  doc- 
trines; and  literally  translating  his  words,  without  rightly  com- 
prehending his  meaning,  substituted  learned  terms  for  things; 
an^  instead  of  devoting  their  attention  to  the  interpretation 
of  nature,  contented  themselves  with  exercising  their  intellec- 
tunl  strength  and  adroitness,  by  carrying  on  an  idle  and  use- 
less war  of  words  with  each  other.  Des  Cartes  and  Malle- 
branche  afterwards,  throwing  off  the  shackles  of  the  school- 
philosophy,  and  deeply  sensible  of  its  utter  incompetency  to 
the  search  and  discovery  of  truth,  improved  upon  the  la- 
bours of  Aristotle,  and  greatly  contributed  to  the  advance- 
ment of  this  branch  of  science.  The  philosopher,  however, 
to  whom  this  branch  of  human  knowledge  is  more  indebted 
than  all  others  united,  who  may  emphatically  be  regarded  as 
its  father,  and  the  great  metaphysician  of  human  nature,  is 
the  inimitable  Mr.  Locke.  Most  deservedly  is  he  consi- 
dered as  holding  the  same  rank  in  metaphysical  science,  or 
science  of  mind,  as  Newton  does  in  natural  philosophy.  By 
the  votaries  of  these  sciences,  and  those  who  have  taken  the 
pains  to  study  and  comprehend  them,  neither  of  these  names 
can  be  remembered  but  with  enthusiasm.  What  undisco- 
vered countries  have  they  laid  open  to  us,  where  the  richest 


116  Of  Metaphysical  ficience, 

fruits  grow,  and  the  most  precious  treasures  are  accumula- 
ted! It  is  somewhat  singular  that  the  Scottish  metaphysi- 
cians alone,  while  they  do,  indeed,  occasionally  bestow  a 
passing  tribute  of  respect  upon  the  great  English  metaphy- 
sician, which  his  extraordinary  merit  could  not  but  extort 
from  them,  appear  to  be,  for  the  most  part,  untouched  with  a 
sense  of  his  pre-eminent  claims  to  superiority,  and  not  un- 
frequently  indulge  themselves  in  speaking  in  direct  dispar- 
agement of  his  pretensions.  They  seem  to  have  been  actu- 
ated by  a  spirit  not  unlike  that  ascribed  by  lord  Bacon  to 
Aristotle,  when  he  says  of  him,  that  like  a  Turkish  sultan, 
in  order  to  establish  safely  his  own  dominion  in  philosophy, 
he  thought  it  necessary  to  destroy  his  competitors  and  rivals. 
Into  what  diminutive  forms  do  Locke,  Des  Cartes,  Malle- 
branche  sink,  in  the  writings  of  Reid,  Beattie  and  Stewart! 
They  had  the  happiness,  indeed,  to  be  the  broachers  of  a 
new  theory,  and  explore  a  territory  before  unknown,  but  that 
theory  was  false,  and  pregnant  with  ruin  to  science  and  com- 
mon sense;  and  in  that  new  territory,  which  they  discovered, 
they  only  lost  themselves  in  the  mazes  of  error,  while  the 
soil  was  left  uncultivated  and  encumbered  with  rubbish. 
Hear  in  what  terms  Dr.  Reid,  in  the  commencement  of  his 
metaphysical  essays,  speaks  of  the  low  and  imperfect  state  in 
which  he  found  the  science  of  the  human  mind  in  his  time, 
so  long  after  the  publication  of  Mr.  Locke's  book.  *'  That 
our  philosophy  concerning  the  mind  and  its  faculties  is  but 
in  a  very  low  state  may  be  reasonably  conjectured  even  by 
those  who  have  never  very  narrowly  examined  it."  He  says, 
"  thi''  philosophy  is  yet  in  its  dawnj  that  the  lame  and  im- 
perfect systems  which  have  prevailed  only  open  the  way  to 
future  discoveries,"  descants  upon  those  defects  and  blemishes 
in  them,  which  have  exposed  them  to  the  ridicule  of  sensible 
men,  "  upon  the  unprosperous  state  of  this  part  of  philosophy, 
which  hath  produced  an  effect  somewhat  discouraging,  but 


0^  Metaphysical  Science.  117 

an  effect  which  might  be  expected,  and  which  time  only  and 
better  success  can  remedy,  upon  the  theory  prevalent  about 
the  human  mind  having  led,  like  an  ignis  fatuus,  into  bogs  and 
quagmires,  having  contradicted  herself,  befooled  her  vot;iries 
and  deprived  them  of  every  object  worthy  to  be  pursued  or 
enjoyed,  and  being  herself  worthy  to  be  sent  back  to  the  in- 
fernal regions  from  which  she  must  have  had  her  origmal." 
This,  the  reader  must  recollect,  is  an  account,  not  only  of  the 
intellectual  fooleries  and  sceptical  impieties  of  Mr.  Hume, 
or  even  the  metaphysical  subtilties  of  Bishop  Berkeley,  in 
which  we  should  be  willing  to  indulge  him  in  any  freedom 
and  severity  of  animadversion,  but  also  of  the  sublime  phi- 
losophy of  Aristotle  and  of  Locke.  Who  that  has  read  and 
understood  the  works  of  the  illustrious  Englishman,  does  not 
feel  indignant  at  such  a  representation!  Should  any  one  pre- 
sume to  speak  in  this  style  of  the  discoveries  of  Newton  in 
natural  science;  what  would  be  the  sentence  pronounced  upon 
him  by  the  philosophic  world!  We  may  rest  assured  that  it 
is  no  less  egregiously  false,  as  it  relates  to  Mr.  Locke  and 
the  science  of  metaphysics.  While  Dr.  Reid,  however, 
speaks  thus  disparagingly  of  the  labours  of  preceding  philo- 
sophers, to  save  us  from  utter  despair  in  this  matter,  he  takes 
care  to  console  us  with  holding  out  the  prospect  of  more  aus» 
picious  times,  and  scarcely  leaves  us  in  any  doubt  as  to  the 
quarter  from  whence  light  was  to  arise.  "  But,"  says  he, 
"  instead  of  despising  the  dawn  of  light,  we  ought  rather  to 
hope  for  its  increase;  instead  of  blaming  the  philosophers,  I 
have  mentioned,  for  the  defects  and  blemishes  of  their  sys- 
tem, we  ought  rather  to  honour  their  memories  as  the  dis- 
coverers of  a  region  in  philosophy  formerly  unknown;  and 
however  lame  and  imperfect  the  system  may  be,  they  have 
opened  the  way  to  future  discoveries  which  they  did  not 
reach,  or  the  detection  of  errors  in  which  they  were  entau; 
gled."     Again  he  says — "  These  facts  which  are  undeniable, 


118  Of  Metaphysical  Science. 

do,  indeed,  give  reason  to  apprehend  that  Des  Cartes'  sys- 
tem of  the  human  understanding,  which  1  shall  beg  leave  to 
call  the  ideal  system,  and  which  with  some  improvements 
made  by  later  writers,  is  now  generally  received,  hath  some 
original  defect;  that  scepticism  is  inlaid  in  it;  and  therefore, 
that  we  must  lay  it  open  to  the  foundation,  and  examine  the 
materials,  before  we  can  expect  to  raise  any  solid  and  use- 
ful fabric  of  knowledge  on  this  subject.  But  is  this  to  be 
despaired  of,  because  Des  Cartes  and  his  followers  have 
failed?  by  no  means — Useful  discoveries  are  sometimes,  in- 
deed, the  effect  of  superior  genius,  but  more  frequently  they 
are  the  birth  of  time  and  of  accidents."  No  language  could 
surely  be  more  intelligible  than  this.  We  are  thus  artfully 
prepared  to  expect  some  great  discoveries.  What  Dr.  Reid, 
however,  thus  covertly  insinuates,  we  find  professor  Stew- 
art openly  and  boldly  proclaiming.  He  too,  tells  us,  *'  of  the 
little  progress  hitherto  made  in  the  science  of  the  human 
mind,  of  the  errors  and  absurdities  maintained  on  this  sub- 
ject, a  subject  to  which,  till  of  late,  it  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  suspected,  that  the  general  rules  of  philosophising,  are 
applicable;  and  that  the  strange  mixture  of  fact  and  hypo- 
thesis, which  the  greater  part  of  metaphysical  inquiries  ex- 
hibit, had  led  almost  universally  to  a  belief,  that  it  is  only  a 
very  faint  and  doubtful  light,  which  human  reason  can  ever 
expect  to  throw  on  this  dark  but  interesting  field  of  specula- 
tion." Again  he  tells  us — "  When  we  reflect,  in  this  man- 
ner, on  the  shortness  of  the  period  during  which  natural  phi- 
losophy has  been  successfully  cultivated,  and  at  the  same 
time  consider  how  open  to  our  examination  the  laws  of  mat- 
ter are,  in  comparison  of  those  which  regulate  the  pheno- 
mena of  thought,  we  shall  neither  be  disposed  to  wonder,  that 
the  philosophy  of  mind  should  still  remain  in  its  infancy, 
nor  be  discouraged  in  our  hopes  concerning  its  future  pro- 
gress.    The  excellent  models  of  this  species  of  investigation, 


Of  Metaphysical  Science*  119 

which  the  writings  of  Dr.  Reid  exhibit,  give  us  ground  to 
(Bxpect  that  the  time  is  not  far  distant,  when  it  shall  assume 
that  rank  which  it  is  entitled  to  hold  among  the  sciences," 
Here  we  see  that  Aristotle,  Des  Cartes,  Mallebranche, 
Locke,  are  diminutive  stars  that  twinkle  for  a  moment  and 
shed  a  dubious  light,  but  expire  as  soon  as  Dr.  Reid,  the 
great  luminary  of  moral  science  appears.  Those  illustrious 
men  who  lived  a  century  ago  in  England,  and  who  by  the 
labours  of  their  genius  have  reflected  upon  her  immortal  ho- 
nour, were  weak  enough  to  think  that  their  countryman  Mr, 
Locke  had  raised  metaphysicks  to  the  dignity  of  a  science, 
and  more  successfully  than  any  other  man  that  ever  lived, 
had  solved  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind;  but  profes- 
sor Stewart  has  discovered  that  this  high  honour  was  reser- 
ved for  Dr.  Reid.  The  professor  also  here  mentions  what 
he  takes  frequent  opportunities  to  repeat,  that  Dr.  Reid  was 
the  first  who  applied  the  method  of  inquiry  proposed  by  lord 
Bacon  to  the  science  of  the  human  mind.  "-Dr.  Reid,"  he 
avows,  "  is  the  only  metaphysician  who  has  perceived  it  clear- 
ly, or  at  least  who  has  kept  it  steadily  in  view  in  all  his  in- 
quiries." Now,  a  more  unfounded,  and  I  trust,  I  shall  be 
indulged  in  saying,  when  I  shall  have  fully  examined  the 
subject,  a  more  unjustifiable  pretension  was  never  made.  The 
Treatise  on  Human  Understanding,  modest  as  is  its  title,  be- 
sides being,  as  a  production  of  genius,  second  only  to  the  Prin- 
cipia  of  Newton,  if  it  can  justly  be  considered  as  second  to 
any  thing;  is  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  inductive  rea- 
soning extant  in  any  language.  The  precise  purpose  of  Mr. 
Locke,  and  a  purpose  which  he  completely  accomplished, 
was  to  apply  the  principles  of  lord  Bacon  to  the  science  of 
mind,  as  Newton  applied  them  to  matter. 

But  to  conclude  my  account  of  the  arrogant  pretensions  of 
these  men.  "  It  is,  however,  much  to  be  regretted,"  says 
professor  Stewart,  "  that  ever  since  the  period  when  philo- 


120  Of  Metaphysical  Science. 

sophers  began  to  adopt  a  more  rational  plan  of  inquiry  with 
respect  to  such  subjects,  they  have  been  obliged  to  spend  so 
much  of  their  time  in  clearing  away  the  rubbish,  which  had 
been  collected  by  their  predecessors.  This,  indeed,  was  a 
preliminary  step  which  the  state  of  the  science,  and  the  con- 
clusions to  which  it  had  led,  rendered  absolutely  necessary. 
The  rubbish  being  now  removed  and  the  foundations  laid,  it 
is  time  to  begin  the  superstructure.  The  progress  which  I 
have  made  in  it,  is,  I  am  sensible  very  inconsiderable;  yet  I 
flatter  myself  that  the  little  I  have  done  will  be  sufficient  to 
illustrate  the  importance  of  the  study,  and  recommend  the 
subjects  of  which  I  am  to  treat  to  the  attention  of  others." 
Here  we  are  very  plainly  told,  that  Dr.  Reid  having  removed 
the  rubbish  collected  in  metaphysical  science  by  Des  Cartes, 
Mallebranche,  Locke  and  others,  some  great  architect  or 
master-builder,  (and  we  are  not  left  at  a  loss  to  conjecture 
who  that  architect  is  to  be,  although,  I  suspect,  the  Dr.  would 
controvert  that  claim  with  his  disciple  the  professor,)  is  to 
erect  the  superstructure.  These,  it  must  be  allowed  are 
magnificent  pretensions,  and  it  shall  be  our  province  to  test 
their  validity.  We  have  already  seen  what  a  quantity  of 
rubbish  has  been  removed  by  these  master-builders  from  the 
subject  of  cause  and  effect;  and  i  am  inclined  to  think  that 
their  labours  are  likely  to  be  found  in  other  matters  to  ter- 
minate in  a  similar  result.  We  do  not  hesitate  to  declare, 
that  we  entertain  not  the  smallest  doubt  of  our  being  able  to 
show,  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  the  learned  and  philosophic 
world,  that  these  pretensions  are  founded  in  mistake  and  an 
ignorance  of  the  subject;  that  Mr.  Locke  ought  still  to  be 
regarded  as  the  brightest  light  of  metaphysical  science;  that 
his  doctrines,  with  some  few  exceptions  that  are  inconsider- 
able, when  rightly  understood,  never  have  been  and  never  can 
be  refuted;  that  not  one  sceptical  objection  has  been  re- 
moved by  a  theory  different  from  his,  that  could  not  have 


Of  Metaphysical  Science.  121 

been  refuted  upon  his  principles,  and  moreover,  that  no 
discovery-  of  importance  has  been  made  since  his  time;  and 
if  we  wish  that  the  science  of  the  human  mind  should  be  cul- 
tivated with  advantage,  we  must  commence  in  it  at  the  point 
in  which  he  terminated,  and  erect  our  superstructure  upon 
his  foundation.  These  assertions  we  trust  we  shall  be  able 
to  prove  by  satisfactory  arguments. 


'■^ 


CHAPTER  III. 

Gf  Perception. 

The  first  in  order  of  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind, 
is  perception;  by  which  term  is  meant  that  power,  by  means 
of  which  we  hold  converse  with  the  external  world,  and  the 
operations  of  our  own  minds.  Perception,  like  almost  all 
terms  of  a  similar  nature,  sometimes  denotes  the  power  and 
sometimes  the  acts  of  that  power,  by  which  we  discern  the 
external  and  internal  objects  of  contemplation.  It  is  a  gen- 
erick  term,  including  two  species  under  it,  sensation  and  re- 
flection; sensation,  by  which  we  become  acquainted  with  the 
qualities  and  operations  of  the  exterior  world,  and  reflection 
or  consciousness,  by  which  we  become  acquainted  with  the 
properties  and  operations  of  our  own  minds.  We  are  said 
to  have  perceptions  of  colour,  figure,  motion,  hardness,  and 
in  like  manner  of  thinking,  doubting,  hoping,  believing  and 
fearing,  which  are  acts  of  the  mind.  By  sensation,  we  ob- 
tain our  ideas  of  all  the  primary  and  secondary  qualities  of 
body:  the  first  of  which  are  figure,  hardness,  extension,  mo- 
tion, rest;  and  the  second,  colour,  heat,  cold,  sweetness, 
sound  and  such  like.  By  primary  qualities  Des  Cartes  and 
Locke  mean  those  which  belong  to  bodies,  whether  we  per- 
ceive them  or  not;  by  secondary  those  which  cannot  proper- 
ly be  said  to  be  in  the  bodies  themselves,  but  are  only  sensa- 
tions in  us  excited  by  certain  powers  existing  in  exterior  ob- 
jects. Sensation  and  reflection,  therefore,  according  to  Mr. 
Locke,  who  may  be  considered  as  the  original  author  of  this 
theory,  since  none  of  the  philosophers  who  preceded  him 
appear  to  have  had  any  distinct  knowledge  of  it,  are  the  two 
great  and  sole  inlets  of  human  knowledge.     Through  these 


124  Of  Perception- 

two  channels  we  obtain  all  our  simple  ideas,  which  are  the 
elementary  principles  out  of  which  the  busy  and  curious 
mind  of  man  forms  an  endless  diversity  of  combinations. 
As  to  the  process,  by  which  ideas  of  the  external  world  are 
excited  in  us,  Mr.  Locke  says  very  little;  but  as  the  faithful 
Interpreter  of  nature,  whose  province  is  to  trace  her  secret 
operations,  as  far  as  the  limited  faculties  bestowed  upon  our 
race  admit,  he  maintains,  that  those  ideas  can  be  produced  in 
us  only  by  impulse  or  the  action  of  outward  objects  upon  the 
senses:  as  in  taste,  by  the  actual  contact  of  sapid  substances 
with  the  tongue  and  palate,  in  smelling  the  odorous  effluvia 
emitted  from  substances  striking  upon  the  nostril,  in  hearing, 
the  vibrations  of  air  upon  the  ear,  and  in  seeing,  the  impin- 
ging of  the  rays  of  light,  that  pass  from  the  object  upon  the 
retina  of  the  eye.  How  it  happens  that  this  action  upon  the 
outward  organ,  occasions  perception  in  any  case;  that  the 
formation  of  an  image  upon  the  retina,  for  instance,  renders 
objects  visible  to  us,  is  considered  by  the  most  profound 
philosophers,  as  utterly  unsearchable  to  the  human  mind. 
Facts  without  number  may  be  adduced  to  show,  that  in  or- 
der to  distinct  vision,  an  image  must  be  formed  upon  the 
retina,  and  moreover,  that  the  action  produced  in  the  ner- 
vous coat  at  the  bottom  of  the  eye  must  be  communicated 
by  the  nerves  leading  to  the  brain,  to  that  lyiembrane^  usually 
regarded  as  the  common  sensorium.  So  far  the  doctrine  of 
philosophers  is  substantiated  by  experiment  and  observation. 
For,  if  from  any  cause,  as  a  disorder  in  the  membranes  of 
the  eye  or  any  discoloration  of  its  humours,  no  distinct 
image  be  thrown  upon  the  retina,  or  if  from  any  defect  in 
the  system  of  nerves  leading  from  the  bottom  of  the  eye  to 
the  brain,  the  necessary  motion,  or  action,  to  be  transmitted 
to  the  common  sensorium  be  intercepted,  the  object  is  not 
perceived. 


0^  Perception,  125 

Further  than  this,  however,  a  sound  philosophy  does  not 
pretend  to  conduct  us  into  the  mysteries  of  nature.  Wheth- 
er the  action  produced  in  the  nervous  coat  be  longitudinal 
or  vibratory,  how  it  happens  that  any  motions  excited  in  a 
system  of  nerves  should  produce  ideas  in  our  minds,  or  what 
is  the  nature  of  our  ideas;  no  philosophers,  who  have  just 
conceptions  of  the  limited  sphere  of  human  knowledge,  have 
ever  undertaken  to  determine.  Such  disquisitions  were  re- 
served solely  to  exercise  the  ingenuity  and  excite  the  litera- 
ry hostilities  of  the  Schoolmen,  who  in  their  contests  with 
each  other,  entirely  lost  sight  of  nature,  and  were  contented 
with  gaining  the  palm  of  victory,  by  the  dexterous  employ- 
ment of  learned  terms,  to  which  they  themselves  annexed  no 
precise  meanings. 

Having  thus  briefly  stated  the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke  and 
the  Philosophers,  the  task  which  now  devolves  upon  us  is  to 
vindicate  this  system  from  the  objections  which  have  been 
alledged  against  it  by  Dr.  Reid.  This  author  admits  "  that 
we  perceive  no  external  object  but  by  means  of  certain  bodily 
organs  God  has  given  us  for  that  purpose."  This  he  could 
not  deny;  since  it  is  incontrovertibly  proved  by  the  fact,  that 
a  man  born  blind  can  have  no  ideas  of  colour,  one  deprived  of 
hearing  has  no  ideas  of  sounds,  and  that  the  same  result  takes 
place  in  case  of  a  deficiency  in  the  other  senses;  there  is  a 
want  of  that  train  of  ideas  introduced  by  them.  He  allows 
also,  that  "  there  is  sufficient  reason  to  conclude,  that  in  per- 
ception the  object  produces  some  change  in  the  organ;  the 
organ  produces  some  change  upon  the  nerve;  and  the  nerve 
produces  some  change  in  the  brain."  In  these  particulars  he 
exactly  agrees  with  Mr.  Locke  and  the  Philosophers.  But 
the  first  point  in  their  doctrine  which  he  thinks  objectionable; 
and  upon  account  of  which  he  separates  from  them,  is,  that 
"  without  good  reason,  they  have  concluded  that  the  impres- 
sions made  upon  the  body  are  the  proper  efficient  cause  of 
perception."     "  Some  Philosophers,"  he  continues,  "  among 


126  Of  Perception. 

the  anc'u-iits,  as  well  as  among  the  moderns,  imagined  that 
man  is  nothing  but  a  piece  of  matter  so  curiously  organized, 
that  the  impressions  of  external  objects  produce  in  it  sensa- 
tion, perception,  remembrance,  and  all  the  other  operations  we 
are  conscious  of.  This  foolish  opinion  could  only  take  its 
rise,  from  observing  the  constant  connection  which  the  author 
of  nature  hath  established  between  certain  impressions  made 
upon  the  senses,  and  our  perception  of  the  objects  by  which 
the  impression  is  made;  from  which  they  weakly  inferred 
that  those  impressions  were  the  proper  efficient  causes  of  the 
corresponding  perceptions.  There  is,  indeed,  nothing  more 
ridiculous  than  to  imagine  that  any  motion  or  modification  of 
matter  should  produce  thought.  If  any  one  should  tell  of  a 
telescope  so  exactly  made  as  to  have  the  power  of  seeing; 
of  a  whispering  gallery  so  formed  as  to  have  the  power  of 
hearing;  of  a  cabinet  so  nicely  framed  as  to  have  the  power 
of  memory;  or  of  a  machine  so  delicate  as  to  feel  pain  when 
it  is  touched;  such  absurdities  are  so  shocking  to  common 
sense,  that  they  would  not  find  belief  even  among  Savages. 
Yet  it  is  the  same  absurdity  to  think  that  the  impressions  of 
external  objects  upon  the  machine  of  our  bodies,  can  be  the 
real  efficient  cause  of  thought  and  perception."  Perhaps 
never  was  there  greater  confusion  of  ideas  than  is  discovered 
in  this  passage.  We  begin  our  strictures  upon  it  by  remark- 
ing, that  it  is  consistent  in  Dr.  Reid  to  deny  that  any  action 
of  the  bodily  organs  can  be  the  real  efficient  cause  of  per- 
ception; since  according  to  his  own  principles  before  stated, 
matter  cannot  be  the  efficient  cause  of  any  thing;  and  of 
course  he  ought  to  deny  that  the  several  media  which  ope- 
rate upon  the  senses,  in  smelling,  tasting,  seeing  or  hearing, 
can  be  the  efficient  cause  of  any  action  even  in  the  nerves 
themselves;  as,  for  instance,  that  light  can  be  the  efficient 
cause  of  the  image  upon  the  retina.  But  he  does  not  choose 
to  rest  his  objection  upon  this  ground.  He  endeavours  to 
confound  with  materialist*  those  who  maintain,  that  the  ac- 


Of  Perception.  127 

tion  of  outward  objects  upon  the  senses,  and  through  their  in- 
strumentality upon  the  mind,  may  be  the  efficient  cause  of 
perception.     Now  surely  his  ideas  must  be  confused,  indeed, 
who  does  not  perceive  that  there  is  no  connection  between 
this  doctrine  and  materialism.     Can  any  one  deny  that  the 
mind  and  body  reciprocally  act  upon  each  other?    What  are 
the  mysterious  ties  that  unite  them,  and  what  is  the  mode  by 
which  they  operate  upon  one  another,  the  deepest  philosophy 
has  never  been  able  to  ascertain;  but  nothing  can  be  more 
certain  than  the  fact,  that  they  do  produce  effects  upon  each 
other,  sometimes  the  body  upon  the  mind,  and  at  other  times 
the  mind  upon  the  body.     When   a   sword  cuts   the  body, 
does  it  not  cause  pain  in  the  mind,  and  is  not  the  sword  the 
eflScient  cause  of  that  pain,  operating  upon  the  sentient  prin- 
ciple within  through   the  instrumentality  of  the  external  or-  5^. 
gans  of  sense?   Where  then  is  the  difficulty  in  supposing  that 
the  rays  of  light  acting  upon  the  nervous  coat  of  the  eye  and 
brain,  are  the  efficient  cause  of  vision?  Dr.  Reid  has  been 
guilty  in  this  statement  of  a  most  egregious   blunder.     He 
makes  materialism,  or  what  is  equivalent  to  materialism,  to 
consist   in  maintaining  that   the  action  of  outward  objects 
upon  the  senses  and  through  them  upon  the  mind,  is  the  ef- 
ficient cause  of  thought,  whereas  it  really  consists  in  making 
thought  the  result  of  that  action  upon  the  bodily  organs  alone. 
The  essence  of  materialism  lies  in  making  all  our  percep- 
tions, thoughts  and  feelings,  mere  modes  of  motion,  in  the  dif- 
ferent bodily  organs.      The  doctrine,  however,  of  Mr.  Locke 
and  the  best  Philosophers,   is  not,  as  the  Dr.  says,  that  any 
motion  or  modification  of  matter  can,  of  itself,  without  being 
connected   with  an   immaterial  principle,  produce  thought; 
for  they  concur  in  the  opinion  that  if  it  be  not  as  is  asserted 
ridiculous,  it  is  at  any  rate  inconceivable;  but  that  the  soul 
and  body  being  intimately  united  together,  sympathise  in  all 
the  alterations  and  modifications  of  each  other;  mutually  act 
and  re-act  upon  one  another;  at  one  time  the  one  as  a  cause 


128  Of  Perception. 

producing   an    effect    upon  the   other,   and  vice  versa.     As 
to  the   manner  or  modus  operandi  in  which  they  produce 
these  effects,  we   are  entirely  in  the  dark,  and  likely  ever  to 
remain  so-   But  is  not  the  manner  in  which  the  intelligent  prin- 
ciple within  produces  any  effects  upon  the  body  equally  as  un- 
searchable, and  even  inconceivable,  as  the  manner  in  which 
the  body  can  operate  upon  the  soul?  A  man  receives  a  wound 
in  his  limb  which  gives  pain  to  his  mind;  a  delicate  woman 
receives  intelligence  of  the  sudden  death  of  a  friend,  and 
faints  away;  now,  is  there  any  more  difficulty  in  our  con- 
ceiving of  the  violence  done  to  the  outward  organs  as  con- 
veying pain  to  the  mind  by  a  mysterious  action  upon  it,  than 
that  the  sudden  emotion  of  grief,  which  is  a  sentiment  of  the 
mind,  should  produce  such  a  relaxation  of  the  muscles  of  the 
body  and  remission  of  the  functions  of  the  whole  system,  as 
to  occasion  a  person  to  faint?  Yet  the  Dr.  says,   "it  5s  the 
same  absurdity  to  suppose,  that  the  i^ipressions  of  external 
objects  upon  the  senses  and  through  them  upon  the  mind,  are 
the  efficient  cause  of  perception,  as  to  imagine   a  telescope 
so  exactly  made  as  to  have  the  power  of  seeing,  a  whisper- 
ing gallery  that  has  the  power  of  hearing,  a  cabinet  so  nicely 
framed  as  to  have  the  power  of  memory,  or  a   machine  so 
delicate  as  to  feel  pain."     And  yet  he  who  thus  confounds 
together  things  so   evidently  distinct,  is  the  writer  who  has 
detected  the  errors  and  exposed  the  theory  of  that  nicely  dis- 
criminating mind  and  true  light  of  science,   the   great  me- 
taphysician of  England  1  These  are  the  errors  and  absurdities 
into  which  we  are   led  by  materialism,  but  have  nothing  to 
do  with  the  maxims  of  a  sound  and  just  philosophy. 

Let  us,  now,  state  the  argument  upon  which  we  ground 
the  conclusion,  that  the  several  media  which  act  upon  the 
senses,  and  furnish  us  with  our  information  concerning  their 
several  objects,  are  the  real  efficient  causes  of  perceptions  in 
the  mind.  "  This  foolish  opinion,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  "  could 
only  have  taken  its  rise  from  observing  the  constant  connec- 


Of  Perception,  129 

lion,  which  the  author  of  nature  hath  established  between 
certain  impressions  made  upon  the  senses,  and  our  perception 
of  the  objects  by  which  the  impression  is  made;  from  which 
they  weakly  inferred,  that  those  impressions  were  the  proper 
and  efficient  causes  of  the  corresponding  perception,"  The 
foolish  opinion,  of  which  the  Dr.  speaks  in  the  commence- 
ment of  this  sentence,  was  that  of  Aristotle,  Des  Cartes  and 
Locke,  all  of  whom  considered  the  qualities  of  bodies  as  the 
causes  of  sensations  in  us.  They  did  not  draw  this  infer- 
ence, however,  solely  from  observing  the  constant  connec- 
tion established  by  the  author  of  nature,  between  certain  im- 
pressions made  upon  the  senses  and  our  perception  of  the 
objects  by  which  such  impressions  are  made;  but  from  a 
thorough  conviction  resting  upon  facts,  that  besides  the  in- 
variable connection  between  the  presentation  of  an  object  to 
the  senses  and  the  correspondent  perception,  there  must  be 
a  power  in  the  cause^pdequate  to  produce  the  result.  This 
inference  they  conceived  themselves  as  not  drawing  weakly, 
but  by  as  strong  a  cord  of  argument,  as  that  by  which  they 
could,  in  any  other  case  whatever,  infer  the  cause  from  its  ef- 
fect. They  knew  nothing  of  that  shallow  philosophy,  and 
idle  jargon  of  words,  which  would  resolve  the  whole  relation 
of  cause  and  effect  into  the  constant  contiguity  and  conjunc- 
tion of  objects;  and  make  the  whole  business  of  natural  sci- 
ence to  consist,  in  tracing  connections  between  signs  and  the 
things  signified  by  them,  introduced  into  the  recent  school 
of  metaphysicks. 

Let  us,  then,  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  the  question, 
why  we  conclude,  that  the  action  of  outward  objects  upon  the 
senses  and  the  organs  of  sense  upon  the  mind,  is  the  real 
and  efficient  cause  of  perception?  The  case  would  seem  to 
be  extremely  clear  and  intelligible,  if  not  embarrassed  by 
metaphysical  subtilty-  There  is  not  a  single  circumstance 
which  can  be  mentioned,  in  any  instance,  that  indicates  the 
existence  and  agency  of  a   cause  which  may  not  be  recogni- 

R 


130  Of  Perception, 

zed  in  this.  Take  the  example  of  vision  by  way  of  illustra- 
tion, as  every  conclusion  which  can  be  deduced  from  nature 
as  applicable  to  the  one  sense,  will  be  found  equally  applica- 
ble to  the  others.  We  say  that  the  rays  of  light  passing 
from  the  object  and  converging  towards  a  point,  forming  an 
image  upon  the  retina,  and  producing  an  action  in  the  ner- 
vous coat,  and  the  brain,  is  the  efficient  cause  of  our  seeing. 
The  arguments,  by  which  we  prove  this  proposition,  are,  that 
unless  an  object  is  presented  in  a  proper  light  and  position, 
and  the  organs  of  vision  be  in  a  sound  state,  there  is  no  per- 
ception; that  in  a  good  state  of  the  organ  and  proper  position 
of  the  object  there  is  invariably  vision;  and  moreover,  to 
render  the  reasoning  conclusive,  they  who  are  deprived  of 
sight  are  entirely  destitute  of  that  assemblage  of  ideas  obtain- 
ed by  the  exercise  of  this  sense.  Could  we  desire  more 
satisfactory  proof  of  any  point  than  we  have  of  this?  What 
possible  circumstances  can  in  any  cas#  determine  the  exis- 
tence of  a  cause  which  cannot  be  discovered  here?  Dr.  Reid 
allows,  that  an  image  is  always  formed  upon  the  retina  by 
the  rays  of  light,  and  that  the  formation  of  this  image  is  ne- 
cessary to  distinct  vision.  Now,  how  can  he  prove  that  this 
image  is  invariably  spread  upon  the  retina,  and  that  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  vision;  but  from  the  consideration,  that  whenever 
an  object  is  presented  to  the  organ  in  a  proper  light,  the  for- 
mation of  this  image  is  the  necessary  result,  and  that  when- 
ever this  image  is  formed  vision  is  the  result?  Constant 
conjuBction  and  contiguity,  although  they  by  no  means  com- 
prise the  whole  of  our  idea  of  the  relation  between  cause  and 
effect,  certainly  serve,  for  the  most  part,  as  a  tolerably  sure 
criterion  by  which  to  ascertain  the  existence  of  such  relation 
between  two  objects.  Now,  it  is  evident  that  every  argu- 
ment which  can  be  adduced  to  prove  that  the  rays  of  light 
are  the  cause  of  the  image  formed  at  the  bottom  of  the  eye, 
may  be  made  use  of  to  prove  also,  that  the  action  produced 
upon  the  nervous  coat  connected   with  the  brain   is  the  effi- 


Of  Perception^  131 

cient  cause  of  vision,  or  the  perception  of  the  objects  of 
sight.  And  if  it  were  not  intended  by  the  Creator  that  this 
should  be  the  process  by  which  vision  is  effected,  whence 
that  exquisite  structure  of  the  organ  itself,  its  appurtenances, 
its  humours,  its  membranes,  its  muscles,  and  its  whole  form 
so  wonderfully  contrived  to  accomplish  the  great  purpose 
for  which  it  was  intended?  Would  not  all  this  wonderful 
array  of  parts;  these  curious  contrivances  and  complicated 
machinery,  appear  to  answer  no  important  end,  unless  it  was 
intended  to  be  the  instrument  of  vision?  If  mind  alone  can 
act  in  vision  as  an  efficient  cause,  and  matter  be  so  utterly 
unimportant,  why  would  not  any  lump  of  dead,  unorganised 
matter  have  answered  the  purpose  as  well  as  such  a  nicely 
adjusted  optical  instrument? 

But  since  Dr.  Reid  denies,  that  the  several  media  which 
act  upon  the  senses,  and  through  them  upon  the  mind,  are  the 
efficient  causes  of  perception;  let  us  put  to  him  the  inquiry 
what  is  the  efficient  cause?  Mind,  he  would  say — What, 
then,  has  matter  to  do  in  the  affair?  "  It  acts,"  says  he,  "  only 
as  an  occasional  cause."  Thus  we  are  plunged  at  once  into 
the  dark  profound  of  the  theory  of  Mallebranche,  where  our 
faculties  are  lost  and  absorbed  in  an  impenetrable  mysticism. 
An  occasional  cause,  which  possesses  no  power  to  produce  its 
effect,  is  a  non-descript  kind  of  thing,  which  no  one  has  ever 
yet  been  able  to  render  intelligible,  or  ever  will  be  able-  But 
as  Mr.  Locke  has  before,  in  an  extract  which  we  took  from 
him,  sufficiently  exposed  the  folly  and  absurdity  of  the  doc- 
trine of  occasional  causes,  we  forbear  indulging  ourselves  in 
any  further  reflections  upon  the  subject. 

The  next  objection  urged  by  Dr.  Reid  against  the  doctrine 
of  Mr.  Locke,  which  we  have  before  stated,  is  in  the  follow- 
ing terms.  "  Another  conclusion  very  generally  made  by  phi- 
losophers, is,  that  in  perception,  an  impression  is  made  upon 
the  mind,  as  well  as  upon  the  organ,  nerves  and  brain.  Aris- 
totle thought,  that  the  form  or  image  of  the  object  perceived, 


132  Of  Perception. 

enters  by  the  organ  of  sense,  and  strikes  upon  the  mind. 
Mr.  Hume  gives  the  name  of  impressions  to  all  our  percep- 
tions, to  all  our  sensations,  and  even  to  the  objects  which  we 
perceive.  Mr.  Locke  affirms  very  positively,  that  the  ideas 
of  external  objects  are  produced  in  our  minds  by  impulse, 
*'  that  being  the  only  way  we  can  conceive  bodies  to  operate 
in.  It  ought,  however,  to  be  observed  in  justice  to  Mr. 
Locke,  that  he  retracted  this  notion  in  his  first  letter  to  the 
Bishop  of  Worcester,  and  promised,  in  the  next  edition  of  his 
essay,  to  have  that  passage  rectified;  but,  either  from  forget- 
fulness  in  the  author,  or  negligence  in  the  printer,  the  pas- 
sage remains  in  all  the  subsequent  editions  I  have  seen."  Ih 
answer  to  these  allegations,  we  deny  the  fact,  that  Mr.  Locke, 
Aristotle,  or  any  of  the  best  philosophers  maintained,  that  in 
perception,  an  impression  is  made  upon  the  mind  as  well  as 
upon  the  organ  and  brain,  in  the  sense  in  which  that  doc- 
trine is  attributed  to  them.  We  shall  afterwards  have  oc- 
casion to  show,  that  Aristotle  held  no  such  absurd  opinion  as 
is  here  ascribed  to  him;  that  the  image  of  the  object  per- 
ceived enters  by  the  organ  of  sense  and  strikes  upon  the 
mind.  Such  a  crude  and  ridiculous  notion  could  never  have 
entered  into  so  clear  a  head  as  that  of  the  Greek  philosopher; 
but  was  a  child  that  sprang  naturally  from  the  loins  of  his 
miserable  interpreters  and  falsifiers,  the  fraternity  of  school- 
men. When  Dr.  Reid  affirms,  that  Mr.  Locke  positively 
maintains,  that  the  ideas  of  external  objects  are  produced  in 
our  minds  by  impulse,  that  being  the  only  way  we  can  con- 
ceive bodies  to  operate  in;  it  shows  how  extremely  careless 
he  is,  in  his  references  to  that  author,  and  how  indifferent  to 
the  ascertaining  of  his  true  opinions.  If  he  had  recurred  to 
the  passage  of  Mr.  Locke,  and  had  possessed  any  of  that 
candour  and  liberality  which  is  the  true  spirit  of  philosophy, 
he  could  not  but  have  perceived  that,  in  the  paragraph  quo- 
ted from  him,  he  is  speaking,  not  of  any  action  produced 
upon  the   mind   by  outward  objects,  but  of  the   impression 


Of  Perception.  133 

made  by  them  upon  the  organs  of  sense.  He  is  inculcating 
there,  the  very  same  doctrine  held  by  Aristotle  in  regard  to 
the  operation  of  the  qualities  of  bodies  upon  the  senses,  in 
which  they  are  said  to  make  impressions  upon  them  as  a  seal 
does  upon  wax.  Hear  Mr.  Locke  himself — ''  The  next  thing 
to  be  considered,  is;  how  bodies  produce  ideas  in  us,  and  that 
is  manifestly  by  impulse,  the  only  way  we  can  conceive  bo- 
dies to  operate  in.  H,  then,  external  objects  be  not  united 
to  our  mind,  when  they  produce  ideas  in  it,  and  yet  we  per- 
ceive, these  original  qualities  in  such  of  them  as  singly  fall 
under  our  senses;  it  is  evident,  that  some  motion  must  be 
thence  continued  by  our  nerves  or  animal  spirits,  by  some 
parts  of  our  bodies,  to  the  brain  or  seat  of  sensation,  there  to 
produce  in  our  minds  the  particular  ideas  we  have  of  them." 
We  see,  therefore,  that  the  doctrine  here  held  by  Mr.  Locke, 
is,  that  bodies  through  the  instrumentality  of  their  several 
media  act  upon  the  senses,  and  occasion  certain  motions  in 
the  nerves  and  brain,  that  become  the  cause  of  ideas  in  the 
mind;  but  he  does  not  say  that  they  make  any  impression 
iipon  the  mind,  such  as  that  which  they  make  upon  the  or- 
gans of  sense.  We  shall  presently  see,  that  so  far  is  he  from 
attempting  to  explain  in  what  manner  any  motions  in  the 
brain  can  produce  ideas  in  the  mind,  or  from  maintaining,  that 
matter  can  act  upon  mind  only  by  impulse,  he  expressly  de- 
nies that  the  process  of  perception  can  be  explained,  by  any 
powers  or  capacities  with  which  we  are  endowed,  and  is  re- 
solvable solely  into  the  will  and  power  of  God.  It  is  true, 
that  in  one  of  his  letters  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester,  he  af- 
terwards expressed  some  distrust  of  the  opinion  he  here  ad- 
vanced, viz.  that  bodies  could  act  upon  each  other  (not  upon 
mind)  only  by  impulse;  but  instead  of  ascribing  the  inser- 
tions of  this  passage  in  the  future  editions  of  his  works,  to 
negligence  in  the  printer  or  forgetfulness  in  an  author,  who 
discovered  on  all  occasions  such  an  ardent  pursuit  of  truth 
and  so  much  readiness  and  alacrity  to  make  alterations  in  his 


134  ^y  Perception. 

treatise,  upon  any  change  in  his  opinions;  I  would  rather  at- 
tribute it  to  what  was  a  more  probable,  and  I  suspect  the 
true  reason;  a  conviction,  upon  further  reflection  and  ex- 
amination, that  there  was  no  sufficient  cause  to  induce  him 
to  alter  his  language,  or  give  up  his  doctrine.  Mr.  Locke, 
in  the  letter  referred  to,  appears,  at  that  moment  to  have 
thought,  that  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  in  his  Principia,  had  proved, 
upon  the  principles  of  his  system  of  gravitation,  in  which 
the  heavenly  bodies  are  said  to  tend  towards  each  other 
according  to  certain  laws,  that  one  portion  of  matter  may 
act  upon  another  without  impulse,  and  even  through  a  va- 
cuum. But  Hpon  a  more  minute  inquiry,  he  may  have  per- 
ceived that  Newton  maintained  no  such  opinion,  and  express- 
ly denies,  that  he  supposes  the  heavenly  bodies  to  operate 
upon  each  other  through  a  vacuum.  He  himself,  obviously 
supposes,  that  the  attraction  of  bodies  is  occasioned  by 
some  thin  and  elastic  fluid  pervading  the  solar  system,  and 
propelling  them  towards  each  other  by  impulse;  although  he 
declares  that  he  could  not  deduce  the  existence  of  such  a 
principle  from  the  phenomena  exhibited  to  him,  but  only  the 
laws  of  its  action.  This  is  a  much  more  probable  account  of 
Mr.  Locke's  failure  to  comply  with  the  promise,  which  he 
made  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester,  in  regard  to  a  proposed 
alteration  of  his  work,  than  that  which  has  been  given  by  Dr. 
Reid.  He  found  no  sufficient  reason,  upon  examination,  to 
alter  his  language,  or  relinquish  his  opinions. 

It  is  not  denied,  that  Mr.  Locke  often  makes  use  of  the 
term,  impressions  made  upon  the  mind,  hut  he  uses  it  only 
in  the  popular  and  figurative  sense,  as  implying  some  effect 
produced  uponit  by  the  agency  of  the  body,  which  Dr.  Reid 
himself  allows  to  be  a  mode  of  expression  authorised  by  or- 
dinary usage.  But,  that  he  is  liable  to  the  charge  laid  against 
him  in  the  following  passage,  we  utterly  deny.  "  But  it  is  evi- 
dent," says  Dr.  Reid  "  from  the  manner  in  which  the  phrase, 
(impressions)  is  used  by  modern  Philosophers,  they  mean 
not  barely  to  express  by  it,  my  perceiving  an  object,  but  to 


Of  Perception.  135 

explain  the  manner  of  perception.  They,  think  that  the  ob- 
ject perceived  acts  upon  the  mind  in  some  way  similar  to 
that  in  which  one  body  acts  upon  another,  by  making  an  im- 
pression upon  it.  The  impression  upon  the  mind  is  conceived 
to  be  something,  wherein  the  mind  is  altogether  passive,  and 
has  some  effect  produced  in  it  by  the  object.  But  this  is  an 
hypothesis,  which  contradicts  the  common  sense  of  mankind, 
and  ought  not  to  be  admitted  without  proof.  When  I  look 
upon  the  wall  of  my  room,  the  wall  does  not  act  at  all,  nor  is 
capable  of  acting;  the  perceiving  it  is  an  act  or  operation  in 
me."  This  last  sentence  is  indeed  very  extraordinary,  as 
coming  from  one  who  had  so  well  studied  the  subject  of  rae- 
taphysicks;  and  discovers  at  times  no  inconsiderable  acute- 
ness  and  profoundness  of  observation.  It  would  appear  to 
be  rather  the  crude  suggestion  of  one  who  was  totally  un- 
skilled in  the  science.  When  I  look  at  the  wall  of  my  room; 
who  was  ever  silly  enough  to  assert,  that  the  wall  acts  upon 
my  mind,  or  even  upon  my  organs  of  sense.  The  schoolmen, 
indeed,  misinterpreting  Aristotle,  ascribed  to  him  the  opinion, 
that  sensible  species  or  films  passed  off  from  the  object,  and 
impinging  upon  the  senses  made  their  way  into  the  mind, 
and  enabled  us  to  perceive.  But  even  this  doctrine,  absurd 
ana  ridiculous  as  it  is,  did  not  suppose  any  action  of  the  ob- 
ject contemplated,  except  through  the  intervention  of  their 
several  media,  and  those  aerial  beings  called  sensible 
species.  The  account  given  of  vision  is  very  simple  and 
intelligible,  according  to  the  system  of  Mr.  Locke  and 
Aristotle.  When  I  look  at  the  wall  of  my  room;  they  do 
not  say  that  the  wall  acts  upon  my  mind  or  sense,  but  that 
the  rays  of  light  reflected  from  it,  pass  into  the  eye,  an  opti- 
cal instrument,  adapted  to  the  purpose  of  collecting  and  re- 
fracting them,  and  forming  an  image  upon  the  retina,  cause 
such  motions  in  the  nervous  coat  connected  with  the  brain, 
and  in  the  brain  itself,  as  to  enable  the  mind  to  have  a  per- 
ception of  it.    In  what  way  this  action,  in  the  bodily  organs, 


136  Of  Perception, 

enables  me  to  perceive,  they  acknowledge  themselves  in  ut- 
ter ignorance.  Dr.  Reid,  however,  insists  "  that  from  the 
manner  in  which  the  phrase,  impressions  on  the  mind,  is  used 
by  modern  philosophers,  it  is  evident  that  they  mean  not 
merely  to  express  by  it,  my  perceiving  an  object,  but  to  ex- 
plain the  manner  of  perceiving  it."  This  objection  is  so  often 
repeated  against  the  philosophers,  by  the  Dr.,  that  they  un- 
dertook the  task  of  explaining  the  manner  of  perception;  evi- 
dently claiming  for  himself  the  merit  of  having  discovered, 
that  in  this  particular  they  made  an  attempt  above  the  high- 
est efforts  of  human  power;  that  it  will  be  worth  our  while 
at  this  early  stage  of  the  discussion,  to  endeavour,  if  possible, 
to  put  this  point  at  rest,  and  exculpate  the  philosophers  from 
this  accusation.  No  one  appears  to  have  formed  more  just 
conceptions  of  the  narrow  limits  of  human  understanding 
than  Mr.  Locke,  and  more  scrupulously  to  have  confined 
himself  within  those  limits  in  all  his  inquiries.  In  his  short 
answer  to  Father  Mallebranche,  which  is  an  invaluable  docu- 
ment, of  which  we  shall  make  liberal  use  in  explaining  his 
theory  of  ideas;  he  was  naturally  led  to  advert  to  this  topic, 
in  animadverting  upon  the  fanciful  doctrines  of  that  very  in- 
genious but  enthusiastic  author.  Why  Dr.  Reid  should  un- 
dervalue this  treatise,  and  speak  of  it  as  exhibiting  proof,  that 
Mr.  Locke,  at  the  time  he  wrote  it,  was  declining  into  imbe- 
cility of  mind,  as  well  as  the  infirmities  and  decrepitude  of 
age,  we  profess  ourselves  unable  to  determine.  Certain  it  is, 
that  the  treatise  is  at  once  a  sufficiently  ample  and  satis- 
factory refutation  of  the  opinions  of  the  Father,  and  at  the 
same  time  furnishes  incontestible  proof,  as  we  shall  show  in 
the  sequel,  that  Mr.  Locke  maintained  no  such  opinions 
about  ideas,  as  have  since  been  attributed  to  him.  Had  his 
life  been  sufficiently  protracted,  I  doubt  not,  that  he  would 
have  proved  with  a  force  of  argument  equally  conclusive, 
that  neither  the  theory  of  Berkeley  nor  that  of  Hume,  had 
the  smallest  connection  with  his. 


Of  Perception.  137 

But  to  the  point  we  have  undertaken  to  discuss.    I  assert,  Jr 
that  Mr.  Locke  expressly  disclaims  making  any  attempt  to 
explain  the  manner  of  perceiving  objects  ascribed  to  him  by 
Dr.  Reid.    Hear  him,  in  his  reply  to  Mallebranche.    "  What 
I  have  here  said,  L  think  sufficient  to  make  intelligible,  how, 
by  material  rays  of  light,  visible  species  may  be  brought  into 
the  eye.     But  when  by  this  means  an  image  is  made  on  the 
retina,  how  we  see   it,  I  conceive  no  more  than  when  I  am 
told  we  see  it  in  God.     How  we  see  it,  is,  1  confess,  what  I 
understand  not,  in  the  one  or  in  the  other,  only  it  appears  to 
me  more  difficult  to  conceive  a  distinct  visible  image  in  the 
uniform  invariable  essence  of  God,  than  in  variously  modifi- 
able matter;  but  the  manner  how  I  see   it,  still  escapes  my 
comprehension.     Impressions  made  on  the  retina  by  rays  of 
light,  I  think  I  understand;  and   motions  from    thence    con- 
tinued to  the  brain  may  be  conceived,  and  that  these  produce 
ideas  in  our  minds,  I  am  persuaded,  but  in  a  manner  to  me 
incomprehensible.     This  I  can  resolve   only    into   the  good 
pleasure  of  God,  whose  ways  are  past  finding  out.     And  I 
think  1  know  it,  as  well  when  I  am  told  these  are  ideas  that 
the  motion  of   the   animal  spirits,   by   a  law  established  by 
God,  produces  in  me;  as   when   I  am  told  they  are   ideas  I 
see  in  God.     The  ideas,  it  is  certain,  I  have,  and  God  both 
ways  is  the  original  cause  of  my  having  them;  but  the  man- 
ner how  I  come  by  them,   how  it   is  that  I   perceive,  I  con- 
fess I  understand  not;  though  it  be  plain   motion  has  to  do 
in  producing  them;  and  motion  so  modified  is   appointed  to 
be  the  cause  of  our  having  them,  as  appears  by  the  curious 
and  artificial  structure  of  the   eye,  accommodated  to  all  the 
rules  of  refraction  and    dioptricks,  that    so    visible    objects 
might  be  exactly  and  regularly  painted  on  the  bottom  of  the 
eye."     Again  he  says.     "  One  who  thinks  ideas  are  nothing  ~^- 
but  perceptions  of  the  mind,  annexed  to  certain  motions  of 
the  body  by  the  will   of  God,   who  hath  ordered  such  per- 
ceptions always  to  accompany  such  motions,  though  he  know 


13d  Of  Perception. 

not  how  they  are  produced;  does  in  effect  conceive  those 
ideas  or  perceptions  to  be  only  passions  of  the  mind,  when 
produced  in  it,  whether  we  will  or  no,  by  external  objects." 
Again.  "  That  which  is  said  about  objects  exciting  ideas 
in  us  by  motion,  and  our  receiving  the  ideas  we  have  once 
got  in  our  memories;  does  not,  I  confess,  fully  explain  the 
manner  how  it  is  done.  In  this  I  frankly  avow  my  igno- 
rance, and  should  be  glad  to  find  in  him  any  thing  that 
would  clear  it  to  me."  Could  Dr.  Reid  have  ever  read 
these  passages  with  attention,  or  was  he  determined  to  make 
eveiy  thing  bend  to  the  establishment  of  a  new  theory. 
"  It  is  now,  I  think"  says  professor  Stewart  "  pretty  generally 
acknowledged  by  physiologists,  that  the  influence  of  the  will 
over  the  body,  is  a  mystery  which  has  never  yet  been  un- 
folded; but,  singular  as  the  fact  may  appear,  Dr.  Reid  was  the 
first  person  who  had  the  courage  to  lay  completely  aside  the 
common  hypothetical  language  concerning  perception,  and  to 
exhibit  the  difficulty  in  all  its  magnitude  by  a  plain  statement 
of  the  fact."*  Let  the  Professor  read  the  aforementioned 
passages  of  Mr.  Locke,  and  blush  for  his  ignorance  or  dis- 
ingenuousness.  What  has  Dr.  Reid  said  about  perception, 
which  has  not  in  substance  been  maintained  by  Mr.  Locke, 
as  far  as  we  have  yet  stated  their  opinions?  Dr.  Reid  says, 
that  in  order  to  perception  there  must  be  some  change  pro- 
duced in  the  organ  by  the  object;  that  the  organ  produces 
some  change  in  the  nerve;  and  the  nerve  produces  some 
change  in  the  brain.  This  is  precisely  the  doctrine  of  Mr. 
Locke.  But  Dr.  Reid  was  the  first  who  had  the  courage  to 
exhibit  the  difficulty  of  explaining  the  manner  of  perception 
in  all  its  magnitude,  and  content  himself  with  a  simple  state- 
ment of  the  fact.  We  have  already  shown  that  this  same 
difficulty  was  felt  and  acknowledged  by  Mr.  Locke.  This 
is  not  the  only  instance  in  which  Dr.  Reid  is  merely  stating 

*  See  Chap.  1,  sect,  3,  Pliilosoph}'  of  the  Human  Mind. 


Of  Perception.  139 

and  illustrating  the  principles  Jof  Mr.  Locke,  when  he  ima- 
gines himself  combatting  his  errors;  and  in  which  the  Pro- 
fessor gives  him  the  credit  of  achieving,  what  had  been  long 
before  accomplished  by  the  English  metaphysician.  After 
these  express  and  unequivocal  declarations  of  Mr.  Locke, 
never  let  us  again  hear  it  alleged,  that  when  philosophers 
talk  of  impressions  made  upon  the  mind,  which  expressions 
they  evidently  use^in  a  figurative  sense,  they  mean,  not  bare- 
ly to  speak  of  the  perception  of  an  object,  but  to  explain  the 
manner  of  perceiving  it. 

We  come  now  to  the  last  and  capital  objection  brought  by 
Dr.  Reid,  against  Mr.  Locke  and  the  philosophers;  an  ob- 
jection which  lies  at  the  very  foundation  of  his  system,  and 
which  if  it  be  refuted,  overturns  his  whole  superstructure; 
which  is  again  and  again  repeated  in  his  essays,  until  the 
reader  is  sated  and  fatigued  with  its  recurrence.  The  ob- 
jection is  this.  "  There  is  another  conclusion  dravyn  from  im- 
pressions made  upon  the  brain  in  perception,  which  I  con- 
ceive to  have  no  solid  foundation,  though  it  has  been  adopt- 
ed very  generally  by  philosophers.  It  is,  that  by  impressions 
made  on  the  brain,  images  are  formed  of  the  object  perceived; 
and  that  the  mind  being  seated  in  the  brain  as  its  chamber  of 
presence,  immediately  perceives  those  images  only,  and  has 
no  perception  of  the  external  object  but  by  them.  This  no- 
tion of  our  perceiving  external  objects  not  immediately,  but 
in  certain  images  or  species  of  them  conveyed  by  the  senses, 
seems  to  be  the  most  ancient  philosophical  hypothesis  we 
have  on  the  subject  of  perception,  and  to  have,  with  very 
small  variations,  retained  its  authority  to  this  day."  Again 
— "  Plato's  subterranean  cave,  and  Mr.  Locke's  dark  closet, 
may  be  applied  with  ease  to  all  the  systems  of  perception 
that  have  been  invented.  For  they  all  suppose  that  we  per- 
ceive not  external  objects  immediately,  and  that  the  imme- 
diate objects  of  perception,  are  only  certain  shadows  of  the 
external  objects.     Those  shadows  or  images,  which  we  im- 


140  Of  Perception. 

mediatelyperceive,  were,by  the  ancients,'called  species,forms, 
phantasms.  Since  the  time  of  Des  Cartes,  they  have  com- 
monly been  called  ideas,  and  by  Mr.  Hume  impressions. 
But  all  philosophers,  from  Plato  to  Mr.  Hume,  agree  in  this, 
that  we  do  not  perceive  external  objects  immediately,  and 
that  the  immediate  object  of  perception  must  be  some  image 
present  to  the  mind."  This  is  the  grand  heresy  with  which 
Dr.  Reid  charges  the  philosophers;  and  which  is  represent- 
ed as  having  had  such  a  disastrous  influence,  as  to  have  hood- 
winked the  whole  order  from  Plato  to  Mr.  Hume;  jaundiced 
their  views  of  moral  natuce;  deprived  them  of  common  sense, 
and  laid  the  foundation  upon  which  was  built  a  system  of 
errors,  follies  and  absurdities,  that  have  infected  and  vitiated 
the  science  of  mind,  and  w^hich,  unless' they  had  been  happily 
detected,  must  forever  have  closed  the  door  to  its  advance- 
ment. 

No  terms  appear  too  strong  for  the  Dr.,  when  he  is  des- 
canting upon  the  mischiefs  which  have  been  occasioned  by 
what,  to  most  persons,  would  appear  to  be  a  very  innocent 
and  inoffensive  thing;  the  theory  of  perception,  or  the  theory 
that  ideas  are  images  in  the  mind.  He  may,  indeed,  be  con- 
sidered as  rising  to  the  sublime,  when  he  speaks  with  so 
much  feeling  and  eloquence  on  this  subject.  At  one  time 
he  exhibits  the  ideal  theory,  as  a  "  penurious  and  malignant 
ray,"  suflScient  only  to  "  shed  a  darkness  visible  upon  the  hu- 
man faculties;"  or"  an  ignis  fatuus,  leading  us  into  bogs  and 
quagmires;"  or  as  "  making  an  attempt  no  less  audacious  than 
that  of  the  giants  to  dethrone  Jupiter,  in  waging  an  unequal 
war  with  common  sense,  from  which  it  must  come  off  with 
dishonour  and  loss."  At  another  time,  it  is  represented  as 
"  one  of  the  main  pillars  of  modern  scepticism;"  as  the  "  parent 
of  those  many  paradoxes  so  shocking  to  common  sense,  and 
of  that  scepticism,  which  disgrace  our  philosophy  of  the  mind, 
and  have  brought  upon  it  the  ridicule  and  contempt  of  sensi- 
ble men;"  as  the  "  forbidden  tree  of  knowledge  which,  we  no 


Of  Perception.  141 

sooner  taste,  than  we  perceive  ourselves  naked,  and  stript  of 
all  things,  of  our  very  selves;  nay  we  see  ourselves  and  the 
whole  frame  of  nature  shrink  into  fleeting  ideas,  and  like 
Epicurus's  atoms,  dance  about  in  emptiness."  In  fine,  the  the- 
ory of  ideas,  "like  the  Trojan  horse,  had  a  specious  appear- 
ance both  of  innocence  and  beauty,  but  carried  in  its  belly 
death  and  destruction  to  all  science  and  common  sense." 
Such  is  the  representation  given  of  the  theory  of  all  the  phi- 
losophers who  lived  before  the  time  of  this,  author.  Could 
Aristotle,  Des  Cartes,  Mallebranche,  and  above  all  Locke, 
names  that  should  ever  be  repeated  with  profound  venera- 
tion, and  to  whose  illustrious  shades  the  votaries  of  science 
will  ever  pay  the  most  enthusiastic  homage,  have  heard  such 
an  account  of  their  systems,  with  what  resentment  and  indig- 
nation would  they  have  listened  to  it?  Had  Dr.  Reid,  as 
we  have  before  allowed,  confined  his  invectives  to  the  ridi- 
culous theory  of  Berkeley  and  the  sceptical  fooleries  of 
Hume,  we  had  willingly  and  liberally  indulged  him  in  as  se- 
vere a  style  of  animadversion  and  vituperation,  as  he  might 
have  thought  proper  to  adopt.  But  when,  losing  sight  of  the 
distinction  between  truth  and  error,  between  a  just  philoso- 
phy and  an  indigested  mass  of  follies  and  absurdities,  he 
would  confound  them,  all  together;  when  he  would  repre- 
sent the  scepticism  of  Berkeley,  and  the  intellectual  fool- 
eries of  Hume,  as  legitimate  inferences,  from  the  principles 
of  that  sublime  philosophy,  whose  foundation  was  laid  by  the 
Stagyrite,  and  whose  structure  was  carried  on  and  completed 
by  Des  Cartes,  Mallebranche,  and  above  all  Mr.  LocI<e,  we 
crave  leave  to  enter  our  protest  against  such  unfair  dealing, 
and  our  most  decided  reprehension  of  such  egregious  mis- 
statements. 


The  same  subject  continued. 

In  order  that  we  may  rightly  comprehend  the  objection 
made  by  Dr.  Reid  against  the  philosophers,  let  us  see  to 
what  an  extravagant  length  he  is  capable  of  carrying  it. 
Not  contented  with  representing  them  as  maintaining  the 
doctrine,  that  an  idea  is  an  image  in  the  mind,  the  representa- 
tive of  the  object  without,  and  which  alone  is  perceived  by 
the  mind;  but  what  would  seem  almost  incredible,  did  we 
not  know  it  to  be  true,  he  makes  them  assert  that  that  image 
or  species  is  a  material  and  physical  substance,  that  should 
be  perceptible  to  the  anatomist  in  his  dissections  of  the  brain. 
In  answer  to  those  with  whom  he  is  contending,  or  rather 
supposes  himself  contending,  he  says, — *"'  We  have  not  the 
least  evidence,  that  the  image  of  any  external  object  is  form- 
ed in  the  brain.  The  brain  has  been  dissected  times  innu- 
merable by  the  nicest  anatomists;  every  part  of  it  examined 
with  the  naked  eye  and  with  the  help  of  microscopes;  but 
no  vestige  of  an  image  of  any  external  object  was  ever 
found."  The  opinion,  then,  ascribed  to  metaphysicians,  is, 
that  in  perception,  a  real,  substantial,  visible  image  passes 
through  the  organs  into  the  brain,  and  from  thence  into  the 
mind  to  make  an  impression  upon  it.  Could  any  thing  more 
ridiculous  have  been  conceived?  Must  not  all  the  philoso- 
phers have  been  out  of  their  senses,  to  have  believed  in  it? 
While  in  all  other  matters  they  discovered  so  much  pene- 
tration and  deep  research,  it  is  supposing  them,  on  this  alone, 
to  have  been  bereft  of  their  reason  and  understanding.  Let 
us  put  this  matter  to  the  test  of  a  moments  reflection  and  ex- 
amination. The  philosophers  believed,  that  all  the  ideas  we 
obtain  from  sensation,  such  as  those  of  extension,  figure,  mo- 
tion, rest,  colour,  taste,  sound,  and  the  endless  train  which 
come  to  us  from  outward  objects,  are  so  many  images  that 


Of  Perception.  143 

are  real  existences  or  substances  collected  in  the  cells  of  the 
brain  or  deposited  in  the  mind,  waiting  our  summons  to  call 
them  forth,  and  arrange  them  into  proper  order.  It  would  not 
be  easy  to  form  a  more  correct  resemblance  of  Epicurus's 
atoms  dancing  abotit  in  infinite  space,  than  would  be  display- 
ed by  such  a  motly  assemblage  of  ideas,  of  such  various  hues 
and  physiognomies. 

I  shall  state,  in  few  words,  what  are  the  points  which  I  shall 
undertake  to  establish  on  this  subject.  I  do  not  go  as  far 
as  Dr.  Priestley,  and  positively  assert  this  whole  doctrine  of 
ideas  to  be  a  chimaera  of  Dr.  Reid's  own  creation,  or  the 
progeny  of  his  own  brain;  as  I  am  willing  to  admit  that  he 
had  some  aid  in  the  procreation  and  delivery  of  it  from  that 
bright  fraternity  the  schoolmen,  whose  heads  appear  to  have 
been  wonderfully  prolific  in  the  production  of  metaphysical 
monsters,  and  who  displayed  as  man  midwives,  extraordinary 
adroitness  in  ushering  them  into  light.  I  assert,  then,  this 
doctrine  was  not  that  of  Aristotle,  but  of  the  schoolmen,  who 
misunderstood  him;  nor  of  Des  Cartes,  and  Locke;  that  we 
see  some  remains  of  it  in  Father  Mallebranche,  though  he 
rejected  the  greater  part  of  it,  and  in  the  language  of  many 
philosophers,  as  of  Newton  and  Clarke,  who  fell  into  the 
phraseology  of  the  schools,  without  probably  having  studied 
this  subject.  I  maintain,  finally,  that  it  is  not  upon  this 
ground,  but  upon  a  much  deeper  one,  is  built  the  scepticism 
of  Berkeley  and  Hume.  I  intend  to  enter  upon  the  explan- 
ation of  the  opinions  of  all  the  philosophers,  but  shall  com- 
mence with  that  of  Mr.  Locke,  as  most  English  readers  are 
familiar  with  his  works,  and  all  can  more  easily  estimate  the 
force  of  the  arguments  which  are  contained  in  their  own 
language. 

I  say,  then,  that  Mr.  Locke  maintains  no  such  opinion  as 
that  ascribed  to  him  by  Dr.  Reid;  that  our  ideas  of  outward 
objects  are  images  or  representatives  of  them  in  the  mind, 
which  alone  are  perceived  by  the  mind.     I  commence  with 


144  Of  Perception. 

my  presumptions  against  this  objection,  and  then  shall  pro- 
ceed  to  my  demonstrative  proofs  of  its  falsehood.  In  the 
first  place,  there  are  strong  presumptions,  that  whatever  may 
be  the  occasional  language  of  Mr.  Locke,  and  he  must  have 
had  a  mind  more  than  human,  if  his  language  had  not  re- 
ceived its  tincture,  in  some  degree,  from  the  schools;  he  ne- 
ver did  intend  to  inculcate  the  doctrine  that  our  ideas  are 
real  images  in  the  mind,  and  the  only  immediate  objects  of 
perception. 

The  first  presumption. — If  he  maintained  that  ideas  are 
images  in  the  mind,  why  does  he  not,  instead  of  commencing 
his  treatise  with  informing  us,  that  "  every  man  is  conscious 
to  himself  that  he  thinks,  and  that  what  his  mind  is  applied 
about  whilst  thinking,  are  the  ideas  that  are  there,"  rather 
enter  upon  his  task  with  proving  the  existence  of  these  ima- 
ges? With  that  discernment,  which  he  undoubtedly  pos- 
sessed, could  he  think,  that  every  person  is  conscious  of  the 
existence  of  such  things  within  them  as  these  images?  Could 
mankind  so  readily  perceive  that  they  had  within  them  ima- 
ges of  whiteness,  hardness,  sweetness,  motion,  man,  elephant, 
army,  drunkenness,  all  of  which  he  enumerates  in  the  very 
entrance  upon  the  account  he  gives  of  the  original  of  our 
ideas?  If  he  considered  the  term  ideas  as  equivalent  to 
thoughts,  this  was  a  very  natural  mode  of  procedure;  but  if  he 
considered  it  as  expressive  of  a  certain  something  in  the 
mind,  of  which  the  vulgar  never  heard,  it  would  seem  natural 
to  have  undertaken  the  proof  of  their  existence,  and  made 
that  proof  a  prominent  part  of  his  treatise. 

Presumption  second. — If  Mr.  Locke  really  inculcated  the 
doctrine  that  ideas  are  images  in  the  mind,  and  immediate 
objects  of  perception,  could  it  be  possible  that  he  would  not 
have  discerned,  that  the  phenomenon  of  perception  is  no  bet- 
ter explained  by  the  intervention  of  these  images  than  with- 
out them?  If  the  mind  perceives  the  image  only  as  the  re- 
presentative of  the  outward  object,  does  not  the  act  of  per- 


Of  Perception,  149 

ccption  remain  stVll  as  much  unexplained  as  before?  If  it  be 
said  that  this  image  is  present  to  the  mind,  and,  therefore,  that 
the  mind  can  act  upon  it,  and  perceive  it  on  account  of  its  im- 
mediate contiguity  and  connection,  while  it  cannot  act  upon 
objects  more  remote,  since  it  cannot  act  where  it  is  not;  still  it 
is  as  difficult  to  be  explained  by  the  human  understanding, 
and  in  fact  insoluble  to  it,  how  the  mind  can  perceive  any- 
thing, however  nearly  connected  with  it.  A  moments  reflec- 
tion must  have  convinced  such  men  as  Locke  and  Des  Car- 
tes, whatever  might  be  the  jargon  of  the  schools,  that  it  would 
be  as  incomprehensible  to  us,  in  what  manner  the  mind  can 
hold  converse  with  the  representatives  of  outward  objects,  as 
with  those  objects  themselves. 

Presumption  third. — It  is  strange  and  unaccountable,  if  Mr. 
Locke  held  this  doctrine,  that  in  no  part  of  his  long  works 
he  has  any  where  expressed  himself  in  such  unequivocal 
terms  about  it,  that  a  question  may  still  be  made  of  his  opi- 
nion. Instead  of  doing  this,  we  find  him,  when  the  Bishop 
of  Worcester,  the  admirable  Stillingfleet,  objected  to  his  use 
of  the  word  ideas,  and  his  doctrine  concerning  them,  telling 
him,  in  his  reply,  that  he  was  entirely  indifferent  as  to  the 
word  which  was  used,  whether  it  were  notion,  or  any  other, 
provided  it  was  considered  as  expressive  of  whatever  was  in 
the  mind  when  a  man  thinks.  Now  what  could  Mr.  Locke, 
who  was  an  advocate  of  the  soul's  immateriality,  suppose  to 
he  in  the  mind,  but  the  thoughts? 

Last  Presumption. — I  shall  not  multiply  presumptive 
proofs,  as  I  feel  confident  that  my  demonstrative  ones  will  be 
satisfactory.  Besides,  that  we  do  not  find  in  the  works  of 
Mr.  Locke,  the  doctrine  of  images  occupying  a  principal 
place,  as  we  should  have  reason  to  expect,  if  he  believed  it; 
why  do  we  never  find  him  answering  objections,  that  would 
so  naturally  present  themselves  against  it?  Would  he  not 
have  perceived  that  it  went  to  the  rejection  of  an  external 
world,  and  should  we  not  have  found  him  combatting  such 

T 


146  Of  Perception. 

an  objection?  We  find  him,  indeed,  engaged  in  one  part  of 
his  work  in  stating  the  evidence  upon  which  we  believe  the 
existence  of  an  external  world,  as  this  naturally  fell  in  with 
his  plan;  but  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  it  is  upon  principles 
entirely  discrepant  from  those  which  would  have  been  as- 
sumed by  a  man,  who  believed  that  ideas  are  only  the  images 
of  outward  objects;  and,  of  course,  who  had  to  show  the  rea- 
son, why,  when  we  perceive  only  the  aerial  delegates,  we 
should  conclude  that  their  constituents  rtally  exist.  Dr. 
Reid,  however,  asserts,  that  Mr.  Locke  and  others,  did  un- 
dertake to  prove  by  argument,  and  rest  upon  that  proof, 
the  existence  of  an  external  world.  "  It  was  this  theory  of 
ideas  that  led  Des  Cartes,  and  those  that  followed  him,  to 
think  it  necessary  to  prove,  by  philosophical  arguments,  the 
existence  of  material  objects.  And  who  does  not  see  that 
philosophy  must  make  a  very  ridiculous  figure  in  the  eyes  of 
sensible  men,  while  it  is  employed  in  mustering  up  metaphy- 
sical arguments,  to  prove  that  there  is  a  Sun  and  Moon,  an 
Earth  and  a  Sea.  Yet  we  find  these  truly  great  men,  Des 
Cartes,  Mallebranche,  Arnauld  and  Locke,  seriously  employ- 
ing themselves  in  this  argument.  Surely  their  principles  led 
them  to  think,  that  all  men,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world, 
believed  the  existence  of  those  things  upon  insufficient 
grounds;  and  to  think  that  they  would  be  able  to  place  upon 
a  more  rational  foundation  this  universal  belief  of  mankind. 
But  the  misfortune  is,  that  all  the  laboured  arguments  they 
have  advanced,  to  prove  the  existence  of  those  things  we 
see  and  feel,  are  mere  sophisms.  Not  one  of  them  will  bear 
examination."  This  same  sentiment  is  often  repeated  in  the 
works  of  this  author,  as  if  he  evid>  ntly  plumes  himself  on 
having  discovered  an  error  in  those  philosophers,  and  could 
la)  claim  to  the  merit  of  having  first  perceived  the  true 
ground,  on  which  rests  the  existence  of  an  exterior  world. 
Passing  bv  the  other  philosophers  implicated  in  this  charge, 
let  us  attend  to  Mr.  Locke  alone;  and  I  think,  we  shall  see 


Of  Perception,  147 

that  the  Dr.  is  capable  of  great  disingenuousness  and  inac- 
curacy in  stating  the  sentiments  of  others;  and  evinces  no  de- 
gree of  backwardness  in  urging  his  own  pretensions  to  merit, 
even  when  those  pretensions  are  by  no  m'=-ans  unquestionable. 
"  It  is  therefore,"  says  Mr.  Locke,   "  the  actual  receiving  of 
ideas  from  without,  that  gives  us  notice  of  the  existence  of 
other  things,  and  makes  us  know,  that  something  doth  exist 
at  that  time,  without  us,  which  causes  that  idea  in  us,  though, 
perhaps,  we  neither  know,  nor  consider  how  it  does  it.     For 
it  takes  not  from  the  certainty  of  our  senses,  and  the  ideas 
we  receive  by  them,  that  we  know  not  the  manner  wherein 
they  are   produced,  viz.   whilst  I  write  this,  I  have,  by  the 
paper  affecting  my   eyes,  that  idea  produced  in  my  mind, 
which,  whatever  object  causes  it,   I  call  white;  by  which,  I 
know   that  that  quality  or  accident  (i.  e.  whose  appearance 
before  my  eyes  always  causes  that  idea)  doth  really  exist,  and 
hath  a  being  without  me.   And  of  this,  the  greatest  assurance 
I  can  possibly  have,  and  to  which  my  faculties  can  attain,  is 
the  testimony  of  my  eves,   which  are  the   proper   and   sole 
judges  of  this  thing;  whose  testimony  I  have  reason  to  rely 
on  as  so  certain,  that  I  can  no  more  doubt  whilst  I  write  this, 
that  I  see  white  and  black,  and  that  something  really  exists, 
that  causes  that  sensation  in  me,  than  that  I  write  or  move 
my  hand;  which   is  a  certainty  as  great  as  human  nature  is 
capable  of,  concerning  the  existence  of  any  thing,  but  of  a 
man's  self  alone,  and  of  God."     Again.     "  For  I  think  no- 
body can,  in  earnest  be  so  sceptical,  as  to  be  uncertain  of  the 
existence  of  those  things  which  he  sees  and  feels.     At  least, 
he  that  can  doubt  so  far,  whatever  he  may  have  with  his  own 
thoughts,  will  never  have  any  controversy  with  me;  since  he 
can  never  be  sure  I  say  any  thing  contrary  to  his  opinion." 
After  these  assertions,  to  use  the  language  of  Warburton,  he 
must  calculate  largely  on  the  advantage  of  favourable  hear- 
ers, who  would  presume  to  indulge  in  such  a  statement  as 
the  following.     "  It  is  remarkable,  that  Liebnitz's  system. 


148  Of  Perception. 

that  of  Mallebranche,  and  the  common  system  of  ideas,  or 
images  of  external  objects  in  the  mind,  do  all  agree  in  over- 
turning all  the  authority  of  our  senses;  and  this  one  thing, 
as  long  as  men  retain  their  senses,  will  always  make  all  these 
systems  truly  ridiculous."  Now  would  it  be  possible  for 
Mr.  Locke,  more  precisely  and  emphatically  to  maintain  the 
doctrine,  that  the  existence  of  an  exterior  world  rests  upon 
the  evidence  of  our  senses;  and  that  that  evidence  ought  to 
be  held  satisfactory  and  conclusive?  Of  the  existence  of  the 
paper  before  him,  he  says,  he  had  the  "■  greatest  assurance 
he  could  possibly  have,  and  to  which  his  faculties  could  at- 
tain; the  testimony  of  his  eyes,  which  were  the  proper  and 
sole  judges  of  this  thing,  whose  testimony  he  had  reason  to 
rely  on  as  so  certain,  that  he  could  no  more  doubt  while  he 
wrote  that  something  really  existed,  that  caused  in  him  the 
sensations  of  white  and  black,  than  that  he  did  write  or  move 
his  hand,  which  was  a  certainty  as  great  as  human  nature  is 
capable  of  concerning  the  existence  of  any  thing,  but  a  man's 
self  alone,  and  of  God."  Could  we  conceive  of  expressions 
more  strong  and  definite?  The  existence  of  outward  objects, 
rests  upon  the  testimony  of  our  senses,  and  they  are  the  pro- 
per and  sole  judges  in  the  thing;  and,  moreover,  their  testi- 
mony establishes  the  matter  beyond  doubt  or  controversy. 
It  is  true,  that  Mr.  Locke  proceeds  afterwards  to  allege, 
for  the  satisfaction  of  those  who  could  be  so  sceptical  as  to 
doubt  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  what  he  denominates  other 
concurrent  reasons,  to  strengthen  the  assurance  afforded  by 
these  senses.  He  does  not,  as  Dr.  Reid  represents  him,  rest 
the  belief  of  an  exterior  world  upon  arguments  furnished  by 
reason;  he  does  not  consider  these  arguments  as  constituting 
any  material  portion  of  the  proof  of  an  external  world,  for 
that  he  regards  as  resting  solely  upon  the  testimony  of  sense; 
but  he  merely  advances  some  considerations,  which  should 
induce-  us  to  place  entire  confidence  in  the  report  of  these 


Of  Perception .  149 

senses,  as  witnesses  in  the  case.     These  considerations,  for 
instance,  are  such  as  these. 

Our  perceptions  are  produced  by  out>yard  objects,  ajGFect- 
ing  the  senses;  because  those  that  want  the  organs  of  any 
sense,  nev^r  can  have  the  ideas  belonging  to  th^  sense  pro- 
duced in  their  minds;  secondly,  because,  we  sometimes  find 
that  we  cannot  avoid  having  ideas  produced  in  our  minds; 
thirdly,  because  many  ideas  are  produced  in  us  with  pain, 
Wfhich,  afterwards,  we  remember  without  the  least  offence; 
and  lastly,  our  senses  confirm  each  others  testimony,  con- 
cerning the  existence  of  sensible  things."  These  are  the 
concurrent  reasons  of  Mr.  Locke,  that  corroborate  the  report, 
which  our  senses  make,  of  the  existence  of  an  external  world. 
Is  this  to  rest  the  proof  of  an  exterior  world,  upon  arguments 
deduced  from  reason?  Was  it  ever  before  regarded  as  re- 
flecting discredit  upon  witnesses  to  matters  of  fact,  to  advance 
additional  considerations  that  corroborate  the  truth  of  their 
report? 

From  our  presumptions,  let  us  proceed  to  our  demonstra- 
tive proofs.  Mr.  Locke,  in  the  commencement  of  his  Trea- 
tise upon  the  Understanding  apologises  for  the  frequent  use 
of  the  word  idea;  and  mentions  that  he  considers  it  as  equi- 
valent to  the  terms,  phantasm,  notion,  species,  or  whatever 
it  is,  which  the  mind  is  employed  about  in  thinking,  "  Here," 
says  Dr.  Reid,  "  we  have  three  synonyms  to  the  word  idea. 
The  first  and  last  are  very  proper  to  express  the  philosophi- 
cal meaning  of  the  word,  being  terms  of  art  in  the  Peripate- 
tick  philosophy,  and  signifying  images  of  external  things  in 
the  mind,  which,  according  to  that  philosophy,  are  objects  of 
thought.  But  the  word  notion,  is  a  word  in  common  lan- 
guage, whose  meaning  agrees  exactly  with  the  popular  mean- 
ing of  the  word  idea,  but  not  with  the  philosophical."  This 
passage  would  lead  one  to  think  that  Mr.  Locke,  taking  up 
the  science  of  pneumatology,  where  the  Peripateticks  left  it, 
intended  to  maintain  the  same  doctrine  with  them,  and  to  use 


150  Of  Perception. 

the  term  idea  under  the  same  signification,  in  which  they 
understood  those  of  species  and  phantasm,  by  which  they 
meant  images  of  external  things  in  the  mind,  which,  accord- 
ing to  that  philosophy,  are  the  only  immediate  objects  of 
thought.  Now,  let  us  see  what  Mr.  Locke  thought  of  the 
Peripatetick  doctrine,  or,  as  it  should  rather  be  denominated, 
the  scholastic  doctrine  (for  I  ihink  I  shall  be  able  to  show 
that  it  was  not  taught  by  Aristotle,)  of  sensible  species.  In 
the  beginning  of  his  answer  to  Father  Mallebranche,  he 
says,  "  though  the  Peripatetick  doctrine  of  the  species  does 
not  at  all  satisfy  me;  yet,  I  think  it  were  not  hard  to  show, 
that  it  is  as  easy  to  account  for  the  difficulties  he  charges  on 
it,  as  for  those  his  own  hypothesis  is  laden  with.  But  it  being 
not  my  business  to  defend  what  I  do  not  understand,  nor  to 
prefer  the  learned  gibberish  of  the  schools,  to  what  is  yet 
unintelligible  to  me  in  Father  Mallebranche,  I  shall  only 
take  notice  of  so  much  of  his  objections  as  concerns  what  I 
guess  to  be  the  truth. 

"  Though  I  do  not  think  any  material  species,  carrying  the 
resemblance  of  things  by  a  continual  flux  from  the  body  we 
perceive,  bring  the  perception  of  them  to  our  senses;  yet  I 
think  the  perception  we  have  of  bodies  at  a  distance  from 
ours,  may  be  accounted  for,  as  far  as  we  are  capable  of  un- 
derstanding it,  by  the  motions  of  particles  of  matter  coming 
from  them,  and  striking  on  our  organs."  After  exhibiting 
such  a  passage  as  this,  what  becomes  of  that  fanciful  and  ro- 
mantic genealogy  of  ideas  given  by  Dr.  Reid,  in  which  they 
are  said  to  have  had  their  origin  in  the  films  passing  from 
bodies  of  the  Pythagorean  school;  to  have  renewed  their  ex- 
istence in  the  eternal  models  or  exemplars  of  Plato,  and  the 
sensible  species  of  Aristotle  and  the  schoolmen;  to  have  at- 
tained their  name,  and  grown  to  full  maturity  under  the  fos- 
tering care  of  Des  Cartes,  Mallebranche  and  Locke;  to  have 
sunk  into  the  decrepitude  and  infirmities  of  age,  and  spoken 
the  language  of  scepticism  and  atheism  under  the  patronage 


Of  Perception.  151 

of  Berkeley  and  Hume;  and  finally,  to  have  received  a  decent 
death  and  interment,  and  had  their  funeral  obsequies  cele- 
brated by  the  redoubtable  champions  of  the  Scottish  school 
of  metaphysics?  It  must  be  admitted,  that  the  Dr.  has  traced 
for  these  ideas  a  long  and  venerable  line  of  ancestors,  and 
derivf  d  their  lineage  from  an  ancient  and  illustrious  housej 
but  posterity,  when  their  history  shall  be  fully  investigated, 
will  be  likely  to  assign  this  whole  genealogy  a  place  with 
that  in  the  Tale  of  the  Tub,  in  which  the  papal  bulls,  are  said 
to  have  come  in  regular  line  of  ssuccession  from  those  which 
once  guarded  the  golden  fleece.  Does  not  Mr.  I.ocke  here 
tell  us,  as  plainly  as  language  enabled  him  to  do,  that  he  is 
not  satisfied  with  the  doctrine  of  sensible  species  maintained 
by  the  Peripateticks;  and  does  not  think  that  any  material 
species,  carrying  the  resemblance  of  things  by  a  continual 
flux  from  the  body  enables  us  to  perceive  it?  This  he  calls 
the  learned  gibberish  of  the  schools;  though  he  thinks  no 
more  unintelligible  than  the  doctrine  of  all  things  being  seen 
in  God;  or  of  the  necessity  of  the  intervention  of  ideas  inti- 
mately united  to  the  soul  to  enable  us  to  perceive  objects  at 
a  distance,  maintained  by  Mallebranche.  Wh?t,  now,  becomes 
of  Dr.  Reid's  statement  about  Mr.  Locke  and  the  philoso- 
phers, in  which  there  is  said  to  be  such  a  remarkable  unan- 
imity among  them  on  the  subject  of  ideas  being  the  images 
or  representatives  of  outv/ard  objects?  Mr.  Locke  neither 
agrees  with  the  Peripateticks,  nor  with  Father  Mallebranche. 
He  tells  us  expressl}-,  that  he  neither  supposes  any  resem- 
blances of  outward  objects  to  pass  through  the  organs  of  sen- 
sation to  the  mind,  with  the  schoolmen;  nor  does  he  admit 
the  necessity  of  the  intervention  of  ideas,  or  the  images  of 
things  in  order  to  the  perception  of  remote  objects.  He  dis- 
tinctly states  that  all  that  his  system  supposes  is,  what  is 
abundantly  substantiated  by  facts,  "  that  the  perception  we 
have  of  bodies  at  a  distance  from  ours,  may  be  accounted  for, 
as  far  as  we  are  capable  of  understanding  it,  by  the  motion 


152  Of  Perception., 

df  particles  of  matter  coming  from  them,  and  striking  on  out 
organs.  In  feeling  and  tasting,  there  is  immediate  contact. 
Sound  is  not  unintelligibly  explained  by  a  vibrating  motion 
communicated  to  the  medium;  and  the  effluvia  of  odorouft 
bodies  will,  without  any  great  difficulties,  account  for  smells." 
But  Dr.  Reid  himself  admits,  that  the  term  notion,  one  of 
the  synonyms  of  the  word  idea  used  by  Mr.  Locke,  is  a  word 
in  common  language,  whose  meaning  agrees  exactly  with  the 
popular  meaning  of  the  word  idea,  but  not  with  the  philo- 
sophical." Wh)  not,  then,  always  consider  Mr.  Locke  as 
annexing  this  meaning  to  the  word,  instead  of  distorting  it 
from  its  evident  and  natural  signification,  in  order  to  serve 
the  purpose  of  a  system?  In  the  explication  of  a  term,  in 
which  he  was  at  a  loss  for  expressions  of  the  same  or  similar 
import,  is  he  to  be  considered  as  espousing  the  doctrines  of 
the  Peripateticks,  because  he  admits  into  his  discourse  two 
of  their  terms  of  art?  Sufficient  pains  have  been  taken  by 
Mr.  Locke,  to  correct  any  misapprehensions  of  this  nature, 
that  might  arise  about  his  meaning.  Numberless  instances 
might  be  brought  forward  in  which  the  words  idea,  notion, 
thought,  object  of  thought,  are  used  by  him  interchangeably 
as  of  the  same  meaning,  while  the  terms  species,  phantasm, 
in  their  technical  import,  never  recur,  after  the  first  mention  of 
them,  throughout  the  Treatise  on  Human  Understanding.  In 
his  introduction,  we  find  him  asserting  that  he  shall, ''  first 
inquire  into  the  original  of  those  ideas,  notions  or  whatever 
else  you  please  to  call  them,  which  a  man  observes,  and  is 
conscious  to  himself  he  has  in  his  mind.  The  Bishop  of 
Worcester,  who  was  certainly  able  to  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  words  as  well  as  most  men,  holding  a  similar  rank  in 
divinity,  to  that  which  Mr.  Locke  held  in  metaphysical  sci- 
ence, in  the  objections  he  published  against  the  treatise  of 
the  latter  writer,  remarks,  "  the  world  hath  been  strangely 
amused  with  ideas  of  late,  and  we  have  been  told  that  strange 
things  might  be   done  by  the  help  of  ideas;  and  yet  these 


Of  Perception.  153 

ideas,  at  last,  come  to  be  only  common  notions  of  things, 
which  we  must  make  use  of  in  our  reasoning."  Mr.  Locke,  in 
his  reply  repeatedly  tells  him,  that  he  is  entirely  indifferent 
as  to  the  term  that  is  used,  provided  it  only  well  expresses 
the  thing  which  is  the  immediate  object  of  the  mind  in  think- 
ing. Great  use  has  been  made  of  this  last  mode  of  expres- 
sion, that  an  idea  is  the  immediate  object  of  the  mind  in 
thinking;  as  if  this  clearly  showed,  that  Mr.  Locke  believed 
an  idea  to  be  an  image  or  representative  of  the  outward  ob- 
ject, which  alone  was  immediately  perceived  by  the  mind. 
It  is  evident,  however,  that  this  is  a  great  mistake.  An  inac- 
curate expression,  if  it  be  considered  altogether  inaccurate, 
could  weigh  nothing  against  the  whole  tenor  of  a  writer's 
phraseology  and  doctrine.  Mr,  Locke,  when  he  says,  "  that 
an  idea  is  the  immediate  object  of  the  mind  in  thinking," 
means  nothing  more  than  that  it  is  so  in  the  same  sense  in 
which  a  thought  or  perception  is  the  immediate  object  of  the 
mind  in  thinking.  This  is  proved  beyond  all  controversy  by 
the  numerous  places  in  his  work,  in  which  the  words  idea 
and  thought  are  used  without  distinction,  as  significant  of  the 
same  thing.  Take  a  few  examples  that  will  settle  the  point. 
"  To  ask  at  what  time  a  man  has  first  any  ideas,  is  to  ask 
when  he  begins  to  perceive,  having  ideas  and  perception,  be- 
ing the  same  thing.  I  know  it  is  an  opinion  that  the  soul 
always  thinks,  and  that  it  has  the  actual  perception  of  ideas 
in  itself,  constantly,  as  long  as  it  exists;  and  that  actual  think- 
ing is  as  inseparable  from  the  soul,  as  actual  extension  is 
from  the  body;  which,  if  true,  to  inquire  after  the  beginning 
of  a  man's  ideas,  is  the  same  as  to  inquire  after  the  begin- 
ning of  his  soul,"  Again — "  Who  can  find  it  reasonable, 
that  the  soul  should  in  its  retirement,  during  sleep,  have  so 
many  hours  thoughts,  and  yet  never  light  on  any  of  those 
ideas,  it  borrowed  not  from  sensation  or  reflection;  or  at  least 
preserve  the  memory  of  none  but  such,  which  being  occa- 
sioned from  the  body  must  needs  be  less  natural  to  a  spirit? 

u 


154  Of  Perception, 

'Tis  strange  the  soul  should   never  once   in  a  man's  whole 
life,  recal   over  any  of  its  pure  native  thoughts,  and  those 
ideas  it  had  before  it  borrowed  any  thing  from   the  body." 
Again — "  Besides  articulate  sounds,  therefore,  it  was  further 
necessary,  that  he  should  be  able  to  use  these  sounds,  as  signs 
of  internal  conceptions;  and  to  make  them  stand  as  marks  for 
the  ideas  within  his  own  mind,  whereby  they  might  be  made 
knuwn  to  others,  and  the  thoughts  of  men's   minds   be  con- 
veyed from  one  to  another."     I  might  multiply  examples  to 
any  extent,  but  it  would  be  useless,  as  it  cannot   be   doubted 
that  the  words,  idea,  thought,  notion,  are  used  without  dis- 
tinction by  Mr.   Locke.    1  shall   give  but   a  single  instance 
more.     ''  Man,  though   he  have  great  variety  of  thoughts, 
and  such  from  which   others,  as  well   as  himself,  might  re- 
ceive profit   and   delight;  yet   they   are   all    within   his  own 
breast,  invisible,  and  hidden  from  others,  nor   can  of  them- 
selves be  made  appear.     The  comfort  and  advantage  of  so- 
ciety, not  being  to  be  had  without  communication  of  thoughts, 
it  was  necessary  that  man  should   find  out  some  external 
sensible    signs,    whereby  those    invisible    ideas,  which    his 
/'  thoughts  are  made  up  of,  might  be  made  known  to  others." 
Secondly,  Mr.  Locke   cannot   intend  to  inculcate  the  doc- 
trine, that  ideas  are  the  images  of  objects,  because  there  are 
many  passages  in  his  work  which   are  inconsistent  with  this 
doctrine,  and  some  that  directly   contradict   it.     See  the  ac- 
count which  he  gives  of  the  ideas  of  the  foetus  in  the  womb. 
"  Therefore,  I  doubt  not  but  children,  by  the   exercise  of 
their  senses,  about  objects  that  effect  them  in   the  womb,  re- 
ceive some  few  ideas  before  they  are  born,  as  the  unavoida- 
ble effects  either  of  the  bodies  that  environ  them,  or  else  of 
those  wants  or  diseases  they   suffer;  amongst  which,  (if  one 
may  conjecture  concerning  things,  not  very  capable  of  exami- 
nation,) I  think  the   ideas   of  hunger  and  warmth  are  two; 
which  probably  are  some  of  the  first  that  children  have,  and 
%vhich  they  scarce  ever  part  with  again.     But  though  it  be 


Of  Perception.  155 

seasonable  to  imagine,  that  children  receive  some  ideas  be- 
fore they  come  into  the  world,  yet  these  simple  ideas  are  far 
from  being  those  innate  principles  which  some  contend  for, 
and  we  have  above  rejected.  These  here  mentioned,  l)eing 
the  effects  of  sensation,  are  only  from  some  affections  of  the 
body,  which  happen  to  them  there,  and  so  depend  on  some- 
thing exterior  to  the  mind,  no  otherwise  differing  in  their 
manner  of  production  from  other  ideas  derived  from  sense, 
but  only  in  the  precedency  of  time."  Now,  how  are  the 
images  of  external  objects  to  get  access  to  the  mind  of  the 
foetus  in  the  womb;  and  yet  Mr.  Locke  here  admits  that 
they  have  some  ideas?  These  ideas,  moreover,  are  said  to 
arise  from  some  affections  of  the  body,  which  happen  to 
them  there,  and  to  differ  no  otherwise  in  their  manner  of 
production  from  other  ideas  derived  from  sense,  but  only  in 
precedency  of  time.  Could  Mr  Lock6  more  directly  and 
unequivocally  inform  us,  that  he  considers  all  our  ideas  of 
outward  objects  as  occasioned  solely  by  certain  modes  of  ac- 
tion upon  the  organs  of  sense,  and  these  again  occasioning 
the  perceptions  of  the  mind? 

Again.  Observe  the  account  which  Mr.  Locke  gives  of 
memory.  "  The  other  way  of  retention,  is  the  power  to  re- 
vive again  in  our  minds  those  ideas,  which  after  imprinting, 
have  disappeared,  or  have  been  as  it  were  laid  out  of  sight; 
and  thus  we  do,  when  we  conceive  heat,  or  light,  yellow,  or 
sweet,  the  object  being  removed;  this  is  memory,  which  is, 
as  it  were  the  storehouse  of  our  ideas.  For  the  narrow 
mind  of  man,  not  being  capable  of  having  many  ideas  under 
view  and  consideration  at  once,  it  was  necessary  to  have  a 
repository,  to  lay  up  those  ideas  which,  at  another  time,  it 
might  have  use  of.  But  our  ideas  being  nothing  but  actual 
perceptions  in  the  mind,  which  cease  to  be  any  thing  when 
there  is  no  perception  of  them,  this  laying  up  of  our  ideas, 
in  the  repositorv  of  the  memorj- ,  signifies  no  more  but  this, 
that  the  mind  has  a  power  in  many    cases  to  revive  percep- 


156  Of  Perception. 

tions  which  it  has  once  had,  with  this  additional  perception 
annexed  to  them,  that  it  has  had  them  before;  and  in  this 
sense  it  is  that  our  ideas  are  said  to  be  in  our  memories,  when, 
indeed,  they  are  actually  no  where;  but  only  there  is  an  ability 
in  the  mind,  when  it  will,  to  revive  them  again,  and  as  it 
were  paint  them  anew  on  itself,  though  some  with  more,  and 
some  with  less  difficulty."  This  passage  alone  is  decisive  of 
the  opinion  of  its  author.  Amidst  much  figurative  lan- 
guage and  illustration,  susceptible  of  as  much  misconstruc- 
tion as  other  parts  of  his  works,  of  a  similar  nature,  have  re- 
ceived, we  see  him  explaining  the  views  which  he  entertains 
of  ideas  with  great  precision  and  accuracy.  He  speaks  in- 
deed of  ideas  that  have  been  imprinted  on  the  mind,  and  af- 
terwards laid  out  of  sight;  of  memory  being  the  storehouse 
of  our  ideas  or  a  repository  in  which  they  are  laid  up,  that 
at  another  time  they  may  be  used;  this  all  is  evidently  lan- 
guage beautifully  metaphorical;  and  in  expressions  of  this 
kind  Dr.  Reid's  representation  of  Mr.  Locke's  doctrine  ter- 
minates. A  storehouse  or  repository  in  the  brain  or  mind, 
would  indeed,  be  an  admirable  place  in  which  to  lay  up  his 
sensible  images  or  representatives  of  outward  objects,  and 
seems  to  give  somf  countenance  to  his  system.  But  pro- 
ceed a  step  farther,  and  observe  the  explanation  which  is 
given  of  this  metaphorical  language,  and  his  system  soon 
vanishes  into  air.  "  Our  ideas  being  nothing  but  actual  per- 
ceptions in  the  mind,  which  cease  to  be  any  thing  when 
there  is  no  perception  of  them,  this  laying  up  of  our  ideas 
in  the  repository  of  the  memory,  signifies  no  more  but  this, 
that  the  mind  has  a  power,  in  many  cases,  to  revive  percep- 
tions which  it  once  had,  with  this  additional  perception  an- 
nexed to  them,  that  it  has  had  them  before;  and  in  this  sense 
it  is,  thai  our  ideas  are  said  to  be  in  our  memories,  when  in- 
deed, they  are  actually  no  where;  but  only  there  is  an  ability 
in  the  mind  to  revive  them  again."  What  now  becomes  of 
Dr.  Reid's  statement,  that  Mr.  Locke  and  the  philosophers 


Of  Perception,  157 

supposed  images  in  the  brain  or  mind,  and  of  the  brain 
ha\  ing  been  dissected  times  innumerable  by  the  nicest  an- 
atomists; every  part  of  it  examined  by  the  naked  eye  and 
the  help  of  microscopes,  but  no  vestige  of  an  image  of  any 
external  object  was  ever  found  there?  When  the  opinions 
he  chooses  to  palm  upon  Mr.  Locke  and  the  philosophers, 
are  placed  by  the  side  of  their  real  sentiments,  as  conveyed 
in  the  clearest  terms,  what  a  contrast  is  exhibited?  Of  a  na- 
ture similar  to  this  is  the  advantage  which  Dr.  Reid  takes  of 
the  figurative  language  of  Mr.  Locke,  in  another  place. 
"  Two  thousand  years  after  Plato,  Mr.  Locke,  who  studied 
the  operations  of  the  human  mind  so  much,  and  with  so 
great  success,  represents  our  manner  of  perceiving  external 
objects,  by  a  similitude  very  much  resembling  that  of  the 
cave.  "  Methinks,"  says  he,  "  the  understanding  is  not  much 
unlike  a  closet  wholly  shut  out  from  light,  with  only  some  little 
opening  left  to  let  in  external  visible  resemblances  or  ideas 
of  things  without.  Would  the  pictures  coming  into  such 
dark  room  but  stay  there,  and  lie  so  orderly  as  to  be  found 
upon  occasion,  it  would  very  much  resemble  the  understand- 
ing of  a  man,  in  reference  to  all  objects  of  sight  and  the 
ideas  of  them.  Plato's  subterranean  cave,  and  Mr.  Locke's 
dark  closet,  may  be  applied  with  ease  to  all  the  systems  of 
perception  that  have  been  invented;  for  they  all  suppose  that 
we  perceive  not  external  objects  immediately,  and  that  the 
immediate  objects  of  perception  are  only  certain  shadows  of 
external  objects?"  This  romantick  story  presents  to  the  fan- 
cy such  an  interesting  assemblage  of  objects,  and  so  enchants 
the  mind  with  the  recital  of  subterranean  caves,  dark  closets, 
wholly  shut  out  from  light,  except  some  little  opening  left, 
through  which  the  visible  resemblances  or  shadows  of  things 
gain  admittance;  that  it  is  really  much  to  be  regretted  we 
are  obliged  to  approach  this  enchanting  scene  with  the  wand 
of  truth  and  the  torch  of  nature:  break  up  the  spell;  throw 
light  into  the  dark   closet  and  subterranean  cave;   and  dis- 


158  Of  Perception, 

perse  the  dance  of  those  aerial  beings,  the  shadows  and  re- 
semblances of  things.     We  shall  afterwards  show,  that  no 
such  shadows,  as  those  described  by  Dr.  Reid,  ever  entered 
into  the  cave  of  Plato;  it  is  our  purpose  at  present   to   clear 
the  dark  closet  of  Mr.  Locke   from  those  idle  and  busy  in- 
truders which,  at  the  invitation  of  Dr.  Reid,  and  without  the 
consent  or  acquiescence  of  its  owner,  have  gained  access  to  it. 
But  to  be  serious.     To  demonstrate  that  Mr.  Locke  in  this 
passage  never  intended  to  say,  except  by  metaphor,  that  our 
ideas  are  the   shadows  or  resemblances  of  outward  objects, 
we  have  only  to  consider  the  latter  part  of  this  last  quotation 
from  him,  in  connection  with  what  he  before  said  of  memory, 
and  then  compare  the  whole  of  it  with  the  passage   immedi- 
ately preceding.     In  the  latter  part,  he   says  "  would  the 
pictures  coming  into  such   a  dark  room,  but  stay  there,  and 
lie  so  orderly  as   to  be   found  upon  occasion."     Now,  what 
does  he  mean,  or  can  he  mean,  by   the  pictures  coming  into 
such  a  dark   room,  and  staying  there,  but  ideas  entering  the 
mind  and  being  deposited  in  the  memory;  or  by  their  lying 
so  orderly  as  to  be   found  upon   occasion,   but  that  by   the 
power  of  memory  the  mind  can  again  recal  them?     But   if 
we  recur  to  the  doctrine  he  teaches  about  memory,  we   find 
him  maintaining,  that  this  laying  up  our  ideas  in  the  reposi- 
tory of  the  memory,  signifies  no  more,  but  that  the  mind  has 
a  power  of  reviving  perceptions  which  it  once  had;   and  in 
this  sense  it  is  that  our  ideas  are  said  to  be  in  our  memories, 
when,   indeed,  they  are  actually  no  where.     Is  not  the  con- 
clusion, unavoidable;   that  when   Mr.  Locke,  by  a  beautiful 
figure  represents  our  ideas   as  pictures   coming  into  a  dark 
room,  staying  there  and  lying  so   orderly   as  to    be  found 
upon  occasion,  he  means  nothing  more  than   to   say,  simply, 
that  through  the  channel  of  sensation  our  ideas  of  outward 
objects  are  obtained  by  the  mind;  and  by  the  power  of  memo- 
ry are  retained,  and  can  be  recalled  at  pleasure?    Of  course, 
the  whole  of  this  representation  is  a  mere  figurative  mode  of 


Of  Perception.  159 

saying,  what  he  had  frequently  before  repeated  in  a  more 
literal  and  intelligible  style. 

This  argument,  if  it  wants  confirmation,  receives  it  from 
what  immediately  precedes  the  passage  in  question.  "  Exter- 
nal and  internal  sensation,  are  the  only  passages,"  says  he, 
"  that  I  can  find,  of  knowledge  to  the  understanding.  These 
alone,  as  far  as  I  can  discover,  are  the  windows  by  which 
light  is  let  into  this  dark  room."  Methinks  the  Dr.  did  not 
examine  his  dark  room  with  sufficient  care,  or  he  would 
have  discovered  in  it  two  windows  instead  of  one,  by  which 
those  ethereal  sprites,  his  ideas  or  shadows  of  objects,  might 
make  their  way  into  it.  Mr.  Locke,  as  he  had  before  de- 
signated sensation  and  reflection,  as  the  two  great  inlets  of 
human  knowledge,  here  represents  them  under  the  metaphor 
of  two  windows,  by  which  ideas  are  let  into  the  originally 
dark  room,  or  closet  of  the  human  mind.  The  similitude  is 
apt  and  beautiful,  and  worthy  of  its  great  author;  but  it  is 
somewhat  unfortunate  for  the  Dr.'s  hypothesis,  (for  I  shall 
beg  leave  to  call  the  ideal  theory,  the  hypothesis  not  of  the 
philosophers,  but  of  Dr.  Reid,j  that  two  windows  are  dis- 
covered in  this  dark  room.  We  can  easily  conceive  that  Mr. 
Locke  might  have  supposed,  that  the  real  visible  shadows 
and  images  of  outward  objects,  such  as  extension,  figure, 
solidity,  the  sun,  moon  and  stars,  entered  into  a  dark  closet; 
but  how  shall  we  bring  ourselves  to  believe,  that  he  imagin- 
ed the  images  of  doubting,  believing,  hoping,  ftaring,  and 
all  the  operations  of  the  mind  entered  into  it  also.  Yet  we 
find  he  applies  the  term  ideas,  to  that  train  of  thoughts  which 
we  get  from  reflection,  as  well  as  to  that  which  we  obtain 
through  sensation.  Could  he  have  believed  them  all  alike 
to  be  the  images  and  resemblances  of  their  objects?  I  shall 
insist  upon  this  point  again,  as  it  furnishes  too  conclusive  an 
argument,  to  be  slightly  passed  over.  I  cannot,  however, 
conclude  this  article,  without  animadverting  upon  the  obser- 
vation, made  by  Dr,  Reid,  in  the  conclusion  of  the  extract 


160  Of  Perception. 

we  have  just  made  from  him.  "  Plato's  subterranean  cave, 
and  Mr.  Locke's  dark  closet,  may  be  applied  with  ease,  to 
all  the  systems  of  perception  that  have  been  invented.  For 
they  all  suppose,  that  we  perceive  not  external  objects  im- 
mediately, and  that  the  immediate  objects  of  perception,  are 
only  certain  shadows  of  external  objects."  Here  we  see  that 
to  assert,  that  we  perceive  not  external  objects  immediately, 
is  considered  as  tantamount  to  saying,  that  the  immediate 
objects  of  perception,  are  shadows  of  the  external  objects; 
whereas,  upon  the  most  superficial  view  of  the  subject,  a 
■wide  distinction  will  be  perceived  between  the  two  proposi- 
tions. When  philosophers  say,  that  we  perceive  not  exter- 
nal objects  immediately,  they  mean  that  we  can  converse 
with  them  only  through  the  instrumentality,  or  intermedia- 
tion of  the  external  organs  of  sense.  Is  not  this  true,  and 
easily  understood?  They  never  did  maintain,  that  there  was 
any  necessity  for  an  intermediate  thing,  an  image  or  repre- 
sentative, to  enable  them  to  perceive  the  objects  around 
them.  We  do  not  immediately  discern  the  satellites  of  Ju- 
piter, or  the  ring  of  Saturn;  but  I  can  clearly  see  them 
through  the  intervention  of  a  telescope.  The  organs  of  sense 
are  considered  by  philosophers,  as  performing  the  office  of 
this  telescope,  in  bringing  us  acquainted  with  the  world 
around  us. 

In  the  next  place,  Mr.  Locke  could  not  have  inculcated 
the  doctrine,  that  ideas  are  images  in  the  mind;  because  as 
to  the  greatest  part  of  our  ideas,  even  of  external  objects, 
he  positively  and  directly  denies  it.  "  To  discover  the  nature 
of  our  ideas  the  better,  and  to  discourse  of  them  intelligibly, 
it  will  be  convenient  to  distinguish  them,  as  they  are  ideas, 
or  perceptions  in  our  minds,  and  as  they  are  modifications 
of  matter  in  ihe  bodies,  that  cause  such  perceptions  in  us; 
that  so  we  may  not  think,  fas  perhaps  usually  is  done)  that 
they  arc  exactly  the  images  and  resemblances  of  something 
inherent  in  the  subject;  most  of  those  of  sensation  being  in 


Of  Perception.  161 

the  mind,  no  more  the  likeness  of  something  existing  with- 
out us,  than  the  names  that  stand  for  them  are  the  likeness 
of  our  ideas,  which  yet  upon  hearing,  they  are  apt  to  excite     \^ 
in  us." 

Again.  "  Let  us  suppose  at  present,  that  the  different  mo- 
tions and  figures,  bulk  and  number  of  such  particles,  affect- 
ing the  several  organs  of  our  senses,  produce  in  us  those  dif- 
ferent sensations,  which  we  have  from  the  colours  and  smells 
of  bodies,  viz.  that  a  violet,  by  the  impulse  of  insensible 
particles  of  matter,  of  peculiar  figures  and  bulks,  and  in  dif- 
ferent dt'grees  and  modifications  of  their  motions,  causes 
the  idea  of  a  blue  colour,  and  sweet  scent  of  that  flower,  to 
be  produced  in  our  minds.  It  being  no  more  impossible  to 
conceive,  that  God  should  annex  such  idea  to  such  motions, 
with  which  they  have  no  similitude,  than  that  he  should  an- 
nex the  idea  of  pain,  to  the  motion  of  a  piece  of  steel  divid- 
ing our  flesh,  with  which  that  idea  hath  no  resemblance." 

Again.  "  From  whence  I  think  it  easy  to  draw  this  ob- 
servation, that  the  ideas  of  primary  qualities  of  bodies,  are 
resemblances  of  them,  and  their  patterns  do  really  exist  in 
the  bodies  themselves;  but  the  ideas  produced  in  us  by  these 
secondary  qualities,  have  no  resemblance  of  them  at  all." 
The  primary  qualities  of  body  are  solidity,  extension,  figure, 
motion,  rest  or  number;  the  secondary,  colours,  sounds, 
tastes,  smells,  heat,  cold,  &c.  We  see  here,  that  Mr.  Locke 
denies,  of  the  larger  portion  of  our  ideas  of  external  objects, 
that  they  can  be  the  resemblances  of  those  objects.  How 
could  Dr.  Reid,  if  he  possessed  the  candour  and  ingenuous- 
ness of  a  true  inquirer  into  nature,  in  spite  of  such  explicit 
avowals  of  Mr.  Locke,  persist  in  declaring,  that  all  the  phi- 
losophers were  unanimous  in  the  opinion,  that  our  ideas  of 
outward  objects  were  the  images  or  resemblances  of  them? 
Mr.  Locke  in  this  place,  was  evidently  combatting  the  doc- 
trine of  the  schools,  which  supposed  sensible  species,  in  case 
©f  the  secondary,  as  well  as   primary  qualities  of  body,  ta 

X 


162  Of  Perception. 

pass  from  the  object  through  the  senses,  and  our  ideas,  in 
both  cases,  resemblances  or  images  of  them.  Here  we  dis- 
cern in  Mr.  Locke,  the  effort  of  a  penetrating  mind,  prone 
to  investigation,  and  having  the  deepest  insight  into  nature, 
to  relieve  itself  from  the  shackles  of  the  school  philoso- 
phy, but  unable  completely  to  accomplish  it.  He  rejects  the 
doctrine,  that  our  ideas  are  resemblances  of  the  qualities  of 
bodies,  except  in  the  case  of  the  primary  qualities.  He  was 
betrayed  into  this  slight  error,  perhaps,  from  considering, 
how  much  clearer  our  ideas  are  of  figure,  extension,  motion, 
and  rest,  than  those  of  taste,  sound,  &c.  and  on  that  account 
imagined  a  remote  similitude,  between  the  thought  in  the 
mind,  and  the  quality  of  the  body.  And  aftt^r  all  in  this 
doctrine,  do  we  find  any  thing  more  objectionable,  than  those 
analogies  between  mind  and  matter,  so  frequently  traced  in 
writing  and  discourse,  in  all  languages;  and  from  which 
analogies,  in  fact,  are  derived  most  of  those  terms,  we  make 
use  of  in  designating  the  properties  and  operations  of  the 
mind?  Admitting,  however,  that  there  cannot  possibly  be 
the  most  distant  analogy  or  similitude,  between  a  thought  or 
idea  of  the  mind,  and  any  quality  in  an  outward  object,  and 
of  consequence,  that  Mr.  Locke's  theory  is  in  this  minute 
particular,  liable  to  objection  (which  by  the  by,  no  one  has 
ever  shown  or  ever  can  show);  yet,  even  in  stating  this  part 
of  his  system,  he  has  furnished  us  with  an  unanswerable  ar- 
gument, against  those  who  have  ascribed  to  him  the  ideal 
theory.  He  positively  denies,  that  there  is  any  resemblance 
between  our  ideas,  and  the  secondary  qualities  of  body;  he 
admits  a  resemblance  only  in  case  of  the  primary;  and  in 
neither  case  does  he  maintain  the  doctrine,  that  ideas  are 
images  or  shadows  in  the  mind.  To  show  that  Dr.  Reid  is, 
to  say  the  least,  in  the  habit  of  assuming  as  much  credit  to 
himself,  as  he  merits,  for  what  would  appear  from  his  state- 
ments to  be  his  discoveries,  take  the  following  example — 
Speaking  on  this  subject,  he  says:  "  It  is   farther  to  be  ob- 


Of  Perception,  163 

served,  that  with  regard  to  some  objects  of  sense,  we  may 
understand,  what  is  meant  by  an  image  of  them   imprinted 
on  the  brain;  but  with  regard  to  most  objects  of  sense,  the 
phrase  is  absolutely  unintelligible,  and  conveys  no  meaning 
at  all.     As  to  objects  of  sight,  I  understand  what  is  meant 
by  an  image  of  their  figure  in  the  brain;   but  how  shall  we 
conceive  an  image  of  their  colour,  where  there  is  absolute 
darkness?  And  as  to  all  other  objects  of  sense,  except  figure 
and   colour,  I  am  unable  to  conceive   what   is  meant  by  an 
image  of  them.     Let   any  man   say,  what  he  means  by  an 
image  of  heat  and  cold,  an  image  of  hardness  or  softness,  an 
image  of  sound,  or  smell,  or  taste.     The  word  image,  when 
applied  to  these  objects  of  sense,  has  absolutely  no  meaning. 
Upon  how  weak  a  foundation,  then,  does  this  hypothesis  stand, 
when  it  supposes  that  images  of  all  the  objects  of  sense  are 
imprinted  on  the  brain,  being  conveyed  thither  by  the  con- 
duits of  the  organs  and  nerves."  The  hypothesis  here  men- 
tioned, is  attributed  to  Mr.  Locke,  as  well  as  others,  let  us 
hear  what  he  has   to   say  upon  the  same  subject.     "  From 
whence    I  think  it  is  easy  to  draw  this  observation,  that  the 
ideas   of  primary   qualities  of  bodies  are   resemblances   of 
them,  and  their  patterns  do  really  exist  in  the  bodies  them- 
selves; but  the  ideas  produced  in  us  by  these  secondary  qua- 
lities, have  no  resemblance  of  them  at  all.   There  is  nothing 
like  our  ideas  existing  in  the  bodies  themselves.     They  are 
in  the  bodies,  we  denominate  from   them,  only  a  power  to 
produce  those  sensations  in  us;  and  what  is  sweet,  blue  or 
warm  in  idea,  is  but  the  certain  bulk,  figure,  and  motion,  of 
the  insensible  parts  in  the  bodies  themselves  v/hich  we  call 
so."     When  these  two   passages  are  brought  together,  no 
comment  can  be  necessary.     We   shall   have  occasion  after- 
wards to  remark,  how  often,  as  well  as  in  this  instance,  when 
Dr.  Reid  supposes   himself  controverting  the  opinions,  and 
detecting  the   errors  of  the  English  metaphysician,  he  i« 


164  Of  Perception. 

only  fighting  with  phantoms  of  his  own  creation,  and  really 
maintaining  the  doctrines  of  that  great  man. 

The  next  and  last  argument,  which  proves  that  Mr.  Locke 
did  not  maintain  the  ideal  theory,  is,  that  in  tracing  the  ori- 
gin of  human  knowledge,  he  calls  by  the  common  name  of 
ideas,  those  which  are  conveyed  into  the  mind  by  sensation, 
and  those  conveyed  in  by  reflection.     Now,  it  is  barely  con- 
ceivable, that  he  could  have  been  either  so  entirely  devested 
of  understanding,  or  so  wedded  to  the  systems  of  the  schools, 
as  to  have    believed  that  the  images  of  external  objects  are 
transmitted  to  the  mind,  to  become  immediate  objects  of  per- 
ception; but  how  could  he  suppose  that  there  are  in  the  mind 
images  of  thinking,  hoping,  doubting,  believing,  conceiving? 
That  he  supposed  there  were  images  of  these,  has  never  been 
asserted.     Why,  then,  if  he  believed  there   were   images  in 
the  one  case  and  not  in  the  other,  not  draw  the  line  of  dis- 
crimination between  them,  by  changing  his   term  or   giving 
warning  of  the  difference  of  meaning?     Mallebranche  tells 
us  when  he   thinks  the   intervention  of  ideas,  as  representa- 
tives of  objects,  necessary  to  perception,  and  why  should  not 
Mr.  Locke  have   done  the  same?     We  find  him   in  his   an- 
swer to   that  Father,  discovering  a  thorough  insight  into  all 
the  difficulties  and  embarrassments,  which  clogged  his  doc- 
trine of  ideas.     "  According  to  his  hypothesis,"   says   Mr. 
Locke,  "  of  seeing  all   things  in  God,  how  can  he  know  that 
there  is  any  such  real  being  in  the  world  as  the  sun?  Did  he 
ever  see  the  sun?  No,  but  on  occasion  of  the  presence  of  the 
sun  to  his   eyes,  he   has  seen  the  idea  of  the   sun  in   God, 
which  God  has  exhibited  to  him;  but  the  sun,  because  it  can- 
not be  united  to  his  soul,  he  cannot  see.     How,  then,   does 
he  know  that  there  is  a  sun,  which  he  never  saw?  And  since 
God  does  all  things  by  the  most  compendious  ways,  what 
need  is  there  that  God  should  make  a  sun,  that  we  might  see 
its  idea  in  him,  when  he  pleased  to  exhibit  it,  when  this  might 
as  well  be  done  without  any  real  sun  at  all."    And  yet  after 


Oj  Percepttoric  165 

all  this  conclusive  reasoning  and  profound  reflection  by  Mr. 

Locke,  we  stili  hear  it  repeated,  that  he  embraced  an  ideal  the- 
ory, that  paved  the  way  to  the  exclusion  of  an  exterior  world 
by  Berkeley,  and  of  an  immaterial  one  afterwards  by   Mr. 
Hume,     Would  not  a  writer,  who  could  speak  in  this  way, 
have  seen,  that  if  ideas  of  outward  objects   were  images  in 
the  mind,  and  the  only  immediate  objects  of  perception,  this 
would  lead  to  the  exclusion  of  an  external  world,  as  well  as 
the  doctrine  of  Mallebranche?     Here  it  is,  however,  in  the 
doctrine  of  Mallebranche  and  the  schoolmen,  that  we  descry 
the  trunk  from  which  germinated  the  scepticism  of  Berke- 
ley, and  the  atheism  of  Hume;  while   Mr.  Locke,  Aristotle, 
and   Des  Cartes,  are   entirely  free  from  such  errors  and  ab- 
surdities. Had  Mr.  Locke  lived  a  few  years  longer,  I  doubt 
not  he  would  have  given  as  satisfactory  an  answer  to  Berke- 
ley, as  he  had  previously  done  to  Mallebranche  and  Norris; 
and  have   shown  to   the   entire   satisfaction   of  the   learned 
world,  that  their  theories  had  no  connection   with   his.     To 
consummate  our  argument  on  this  point,  if  any  consummation 
be  considered  necessary,  hear  Mr.  Locke  speak   in  his   an- 
swer to  Mallebranche.     "  One  who  thinks  ideas  are  nothing 
but  perceptions  of  the  mind,  annexed  to   certain  motions  of 
the  body  by  the  will  of  God,  who  hath  ordered  such  percep- 
tions always  to  accompany  such  motions,  does,  in  tfl"ect,  con- 
ceive those  ideas  or  perceptions  to  be   only  passions  of  the 
mind,  (not  images  of  things,  but  passions  or' affections  of  the 
mind)  when  produced  in  it  by  external  objects."     In  a  piece 
entitled  some  thoughts   concerning   reading   and   study,  he 
says,  "  perspicuity  consists  in  the  using  of  proper  terms  for 
the  ideas  or   thoughts,  which  he  would   have   pass  from  his 
own  mind  into  that  of  another  man."    In  his  answer  to  Nor- 
ris, we  find  the  following  passage.  "  I  am  complained  of,  for 
not  having  given  an  account  of,  or  defined  the  nature  of  our 
ideas."     We  see,  therefore,  that  this  was  a  subject  of  com- 
plaint against  him.     He  proceeds — "  By  the  nature  of  ideas 


166  Of  Perception. 

is  meant  here,  their  causes  and  manner  of  production  in  the 
mind;  that  is,  in  what  alteration  of  the  mind  this  perception 
consists.  As  to  that,  I  answer,  no  man  can  tell;  for  which  I 
not  only  appeal  to  experience,  which  were  enough;  but  shall 
add  this  reason,  viz.  because  no  man  can  give  any  account 
of  any  alteration  made  in  any  simple  substance  whatsoever; 
all  the  alteration  we  can  conceive  being  only  of  the  altera- 
tion of  compound  substances,  and  that  only  by  a  transposition 
of  parts.  Their  ideas,  say  these  men,  are  the  divine  ideas, 
or  the  omniform  essence  of  God,  which  the  mind  sometimes 
sees  and  sometimes  not.  Now,  1  ask  these  men,  what  alter- 
ation is  made  in  the  mind  in  seeing;  for  there  lies  the  diffi- 
culty which  occasions  the  inquiry.  For  what  difference  a 
man  finds  in  himself,  when  he  sees  a  marygold  or  sees  not  a 
marygold,  has  no  difficulty,  and  needs  not  be  inquired  after; 
he  has  now  the  idea  which  he  had  not  before.  The  difficul- 
ty is,  what  alteration  is  made  in  his  mind;  what  changes  that 
has  in  itself,  when  it  sees  what  it  did  not  see  before,  either 
the  divine  idea  in  the  understanding  of  God,  or  as  the  igno- 
rant think  the  mar)gold  in  the  garden."  After  this  last  ex- 
pression, how  can  anv  one  represent  Mr.  Locke  as  maintain- 
ing that  we  see  not  objects  immediately,  but  only  the  images 
or  representatives  of  them  in  the  brain  or  mindi*  He  con- 
tinues— "  Either  supposition  as  to  this  matter  is  all  one;  for 
they  are  both  things  extrinsical  to  the  mind,  'till  it  has  that 
perception;  and  when  it  has  it,  I  desire  them  to  explain,  what 
the  alteration  in  the  mind  is,  besides  saying  as  we  vulgar  do, 
it  is  having  a  perception,  which  it  had  not  the  moment  be- 
fore; which  is  only  the  difference  between  perceiving  and  not 
perceiving,  a  difference  in  matter  of  fact,  agreed  on  all 
hands;  which  wherein  it  consists,  is,  for  aught  I  see,  un- 
known to  one  side  as  well  as  the  other;  only  the  one  hath 
the  ingenuousness  to  confess  their  ignorance,  and  the  other 
pretend  to  be  knowing."  Could  any  man  have  reasoned  in 
this  way,  who  undertook,  as  has  been  alleged,  to  explain  the 


Of  Perception.  167 

manner  of  perception,  or  considered  ideas  as  the  images  of 
things  in  the  mind?  It  will  be  seen  to  be  impossible.  Under 
this  view  of  the  snbject  too,  which  is  no  small  advantage  and 
recommendation  of  it,  Mr.  Locke's  use  of  the  word  idea  is 
relieved  from  all  that  ambiguity,  of  which  he  has  been  ac- 
cused by  Dr.  Reid,  when  he  makes  it  expressive  of  our  per- 
ceptions of  the  operations  of  our  minds,  as  well  as  those 
which  we  have  relative  to  an  external  world.  The  ambi- 
guity lies  not  in  the  use  of  the  term  by  the  author  himself, 
but  only  in  the  conceptions  of  those  who  have  chosen  to  mis- 
interpret his  writings.  Mr.  Locke  complained  greatly  dur- 
ing his  life,  that  his  opinions  were  so  frequently  misnnder- 
stood  and  misrepresented,  which  circumstance  arose  proba- 
bly from  the  nature  of  the  subjects  which  he  discussed,  and  the 
close  application  of  mind  necessary  thoroughly  to  comprehend 
them;  and  Ave  are  sure  they  have  not  been  less  misunder- 
stood, and  less  egregiously  misrepresented  since  his  death. 
"  The  first  book  of  his  essay,"  says  Dr.  Beattie,  speaking  of 
Mr.  Locke,"  which  with  submission,  I  think  the  worst,  tends 
to  establish  this  dangerous  doctrine,  that  the  human  mind, 
previous  to  education  and  habit,  is  as  susceptible  of  any  one 
impression  as  of  any  other;  a  doctrine  which,  if  it  be  true, 
would  go  near  to  prove,  that  truth  and  virtue  are  no  better 
than  human  contrivances;  or  at  least,  that  they  have  nothing 
permanent  in  their  nature,  but  may  be  as  changeable  as  the 
inclinations  and  capacities  of  men,  and  that  as  we  understand 
the  term,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  common  sense  in  the 
world."  Could  we  suppose  it  possible  that  a  writer  who 
could  speak  in  this  way,  had  ever  read  the  Treatise  on  Hu- 
man Understanding?  If  he  had  read  it,  nothing  can  be  more 
sure  than  that  he  had  not  studied  it  sufficiently  to  under- 
stand its  principles.  Because  Mr.  Locke  supposes  the  human 
soul  to  be  originally  without  ideas,  and  compares  it  merely, 
for  the  sake  of  illustration,  to  a  tabula  rasa,  or  sheet  of  white 
paper,  with  which  similitude  the  Dr.  is  greatly  offended,  as 


168  Of  Perception. 

if  the  progress  of  science  and  the  confirmation  of  truth,  de- 
pend in  any  degree  upon  the  use  of  a  figure;  I  say  does 
Mr.  Locke,  because  he  supposes  the  human  soul  to  be  with- 
out ideas,  and  to  obtain  them  solely  by  experience,  interfere 
with  the  original  principles  of  the  mind,  its  instincts,  its  pro- 
pensities, passions,  intellectual  and  moral  powers,  or  abridge 
any  one  of  them  in  the  sphere  of  its  action?  Does  he  not 
expr^  ssly  recognise  the  action  of  all  of  them  during  our  pro- 
gress in  knowledge,  and  assign  to  each  its  appropriate  func- 
tion? Does  not  his  whole  system  tend  to  strengthen,  instead 
of  weakening,  the  foundation  of  every  truth,  which  is  inter- 
esting to  the  human  mind  or  important  to  the  interests  of  so- 
ciety?*    We  entirely  approve  of  the  zeal,  which  Dr.  Beattie 

"*  Beally,  if  we  had  not  seen  with  our  eyes  these  observations  of  Dr. 
Beattie.  connected  with  the  venerable  name  of  Locke,  but  had  allowed 
our  imagination  to  go  out  in  search  of  an  author,  to  whom  they  would  just- 
ly apply,  we  could  have  fixed  upon  none  so  well  entitled  to  them  in  their 
utmost  severity,  as  Mr  Hclvetius,  who  without  possessing  one  single  pro- 
perty of  the  philosopher,  has  gained  someof  the  honours  which  are  due  to 
that  respectable  appellation,  by  the  freedom  and  impudence  of  his  writings. 
Of  his  work  upon  man,  which  is  as  worthless"  in  its  matter,  as  profligate  in 
its  principles,  it  might  justly  be  asserted,  indeed,  that  "  it  tends  to  esta- 
blish this  dangerous  doctrine,  that  the  hunian  mind,  previous  to  education 
and  haVjit,  is  as  susceptible  of  any  one  impression  as  of  any  other;  a  doc- 
trine which,  if  it  be  true,  would  go  near  to  prove,  that  truth  and  virtue,  are 
no  better  than  human  contrivances;  or,  at  least,  that  they  have  nothing 
permanent  in  their  nature,  but  may  be  changeable  as  the  inclinations  and 
capacities  of  men;  and  that  as  we  understand  tlic  term,  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  common  sense  in  the  world  "  If  this  reprehension  of  Mr.  Locke's 
book  were  just,  his  treatise  should  be  classed  with  tliose  of  Helvetius,  and 
all  of  them  together  consigned  to  that  fate  which  those  of  the  French  au- 
thor so  richly  deserve,  and  be  committed  to  the  flames.  Helvetius,  too,  it 
seems,  although  not  very  adroit  in  comprehending  the  principles  of.  Mr. 
Locke,  discovers  great  willingness  to  enlist  him  in  his  party.  In  his  Trea- 
tise upon  Man,  in  one  place,  he  says,  "  when  we  learn  from  Mr.  Locke, 
that  it  is  to  the  organs  of  sense  we  owe  our  ideas,  and,  consequently,  our 
understanding,"  (a  non  sequitur;)  in  another  place,  "  Quintilian,  Locke 
and  I,    say,  the  inequality  in  minds  or  understandings,  is  the  effect  of  a 


Of  Perception.  169 

discovered  in  the  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness,  and  the 
manly  indignation,  with  which  he  seems  to  have  been  inspired 
against  that  sceptical  philosophy,  which  struck  at  the  root  of 
all  truth  and  certainty,  and  moreover,  with  that  freedom, 
boldness  and  eloquence  with  which  he  inveighed  against  it; 
but  at  the  same  time,  we  cannot  but  be  of  opinion,  that  had 
he  studied  and  better  understood  the  writings  of  Locke  and 
Clarke,  he  would  have  found  himself  supplied  with  much 
more  tried  and  invincible  arms,  with  which  to  have  encoun- 
tered and  subdued  the  sceptics  of  his  own  day,  than  those 
with  which  he  appears  to  have  supplied  himself.  Had  Mr. 
Hume  been  encountered  by  such  powerful  antagonists,  as 
Locke,  Clarke,  or  Butler,  the  issue  of  the  contest  would  have 
been  very  different  from  that  which  took  place,  as  in  this  case 
not  only  would  his  doctrines  have  been  exposed,  ias  they  de- 
served, to  scorn  and  opprobrium,  from  a  consideration  of 
their  nature  and  consequences,  but  he  would  have  found  him- 
self vanquished  by  solid  argument. 

known  cause,  and  this  cause  is  the  difference  of  education."  This  singular 
and  awkward  appeal  to  Mr.  Locke's  doctrine  by  Helvetius,  in  order  to 
give  countenance  to  his  own  follies,  strongly  reminds  us  of  what  Cumber- 
land, in  his  account  of  his  own  life,  informs  us  of  Mrs.  Jenning-s,  the  wife 
of  the  celebrated  Soame  Jenning-s — "  It  was  rather  to  be  lamented,"  says 
Mr.  Cumberland,  "  that  this  good  lady  had  so  great  a  respect  fur  her  hus- 
band's good  sayings,  and  so  imperfect  a  recollection  of  them,  for  though 
she  always  prefaced  her  recitals  of  them,  with,  as  Mr.  Jennings  says,  it 
was  not  always  what  Mr.  Jennings  said,  and  never  as  Mr.  Jennings 
said."  All  that  Mr.  Locke,  mcthinks,  need  say  to  Helvetius,  if  he  could 
be  supposed  to  hear  such  doctrines  confirmed  by  his  authority,  would  be 
to  sum  up  all  his  contempt  and  indignation,  in  the  laconic  but  pungen! 
sarcasm,  "  how  we  apples  swim." 


CHAPTER  TV. 

The  Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

As  soon  as  we  attempt  to  penetrate  into  the  opinions  of 
the  ancient  philosophers  in  matters  of  science,  as  I  think 
must  have  been  experienced  by  every  one  who  has  underta- 
ken the  task,  we  find  ourselves  involved,  like  Eneas  when 
he  descended  into  the  shades  below,  in  darkness  and  obscu- 
rity; where  every  object  is  dimly  seen  through  the  mist; 
where  we  can  with  great  difficulty  grope  our  way;  and 
where  every  shadowy  form  that  floats  before  our  eyes  eludes 
our  grasp,  and  when  we  essay  to  seize  it,  vanishes  into  air. 
This  difficulty  in  ascertaining  the  sentiments  of  the  ancients 
m  matters  of  philosophy  was,  perhaps,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  to  have  been  anticipated.  Mankind  in  the  constituent 
principles  of  their  nature,  and  those  moral  and  political  rela- 
tions in  which  they  stand  towards  each  other,  are,  for  the 
most  part,  in  all  ages  of  the  world  nearly  the  same.  Hence 
those  lessons  of  practical  wisdom,  and  those  combinations  of 
ideas,  which  arise  out  of  their  moral  and  political  condition, 
and  are  circulated  among  any  people  in  their  intercourse 
with  one  another,  are  easily  conveyed  from  age  to  age,  and 
are  as  intelligible  to  the  most  remote  posterity,  as  to  those 
among  whom  they  originated.  But  the  case  is  quite  diffe- 
rent in  matters  of  science  and  philosophy.  The  s)'stems 
which  are  broached  in  these,  seldom  framed  in  the  outset, 
out  of  the  solid  materials  furnished  by  nature,  but  from  the 
crude  and  perishing  productions  of  human  genius,  having  no 
archetype  in  nature,  meet  with  the  fate  that  attends  all  the 
monuments  of  human  art  and  contrivance;  have  the  period 
of  their  rise,  prevalence  and  decay;  until  at  length 
they    perish,    like    the  baseless  fabricks    of  a    vision,  and 


iTQ  Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

scarcely  leave  a  wreck  behind.  When  a  system  of  philoso- 
phy unfounded  in  truth,  and  unsustained  upon  the  firm  ba- 
sis of  experience  and  observation,  has  thus  passed  away, 
the  rneaning  of  its  terms  of  art  is  lost;  and  all  those  com- 
binations of  ideas,  which  were  perfectly  familiar  to  its  vo- 
taries, during  the  period  of  its  prevalence,  are  buried  in 
oblivion. 

To  no  part  of  science,  perhaps,  are  these  observations 
more  applicable,  than  to  that  of  the  human  mind,  from  the 
natural  thinness  and  subtilty  of  the  subject,  and  from  the 
extreme  difficulty  which  men  always  find  in  turning  their  at- 
tention inward,  and  reflecting  upon  the  operations  of  the 
rational  principle  within  them.  For,  as  Mr.  Locke  finely 
remarks,  the  understanding,  like  the  eye,  whilst  it  makes  us 
see  all  other  things,  takes  no  notice  of  itself;  and  it  requires 
art  and  pains,  to  set  it  at  a  distance,  and  make  it  its  own 
object.  Notwithstanding,  however,  the  darkness  and  ob- 
scurity which  hang  over  the  subject,  we  shall  endeavour,  as 
far  as  the  labours  of  the  learned  enable  us  to  proceed  with 
tolerable  certainty,  to  state  the  opinions  of  the  ancients  in 
reference  to  perception.  Epicurus,  who  derived  his  doc* 
trines  from  Democritus,  although  as  Cicero  remarks  he  al- 
ways injured  them  by  mixtures  of  his  own,  appears  to  have 
been  of  opinion,  that  we  become  sensible  of  the  qualities  of 
outward  objects  by  means  of  certain  species  or  images, 
which  are  perpetually  passing,  like  thin  films  from  bodies, 
in  form  similar  to  the  surfaces  of  the  bodies  themselves,  and 
striking  upon  our  organs.  Thus  the  species  or  images  of 
visible  bodies  consist  in  certain  small  particles  of  a  peculiar 
magnitude,  figure,  and  motion,  which  having  passed  in  a 
certain  situation  from  a  body,  penetrate  the  organ  of  sight, 
and  effect  it  in  a  peculiar  manner.  Thus  also,  hearing  is  the 
effect  of  an  efflux  of  certain  particles  from  the  body,  which 
is  the  cause  of  the  sound,  so  formed  and  arranged  as  when 
they  strike  upon  the  ear  to  become  audible.     The  sensations 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.  ITS 

produced  by  means  of  the  other  senses  admit  of  a  similar 
explanation.  These  images  passing  from  the  object  to  the 
organ  give  us  perceptions,  and  from  thence  proceeding  to 
the  place  where  the  mind  is,  so  act  upon  it,  by  means  of  the 
body,  or  occasion  such  motions  or  impressions  upon  that 
part  of  the  corporeal  system  in  which  the  soul  is  seated,  as 
to  occasion  thought.*  This  is  probably  the  original  of  the 
sensible  species  of  the  schoolmen,  about  which  so  much  has 
been  said;  but  it  will  be  carefully  remarked,  that  although 
we  find  here  an  hypothesis  unsubstantiated  by  facts,  yet 
even  in  this  origin  of  the  system,  it  is  not  maintained,  as  as- 
serted by  Dr.  Reid,  that  these  sensible  species  or  images 
are  the  immediate  objects  of  perception  to  the  mind,  but 
that  they  only  occasion  such  motions  or  impressions  in  the 
bodily  organs  connected  with  the  mind,  as  to  cause  percep- 
tions or  thoughts  in  it.  The  hypothesis,  it  is  not  to  be 
denied,  is  untenable  and  fraught  v/ith  absurdity,  but  never- 
theless, let  it  be  rightly  understood;  it  supposed  an  image 
or  species,  like  thin  films,  to  pass  from  the  object  to  the  or- 
gan, and  from  thence  to  the  sensorium  or  seat  of  the  intel- 
lect; but  it  did  not  suppose  that  this  image  was  the  immedi- 
ate object  perceived  by  the  mind,  but  only  that  by  the  ac- 
tion which  it  occasioned  in  the  system  of  the  nerves  and 
brain,  it  produced  both  perception  and  thought;  the  first  in 
the  sentient,  and  the  second,  in  the  intellectual  principle, 
into  which  they  divided  the  soul. 

From  the  doctrine  thus  expounded  by  Democritus,  and 
his  followers,  let  us  proceed  to  that  of  Plato.  A  writer 
upon  whom  so  many  excellent  judges  bestowed  such  high 
encomiums,  and  whom  Cicero  does  not  hesitate  to  denomi- 
nate, the  Deus  philosophorum,  must,  for  the  times  in  which 
he  lived,  have  had  extraordinary  claims  to  merit.  But  this 
merit,  resplendent  as  it  must  have  been,  is  greatly  obscured 

*  See  Brucker's  History  of  Philosophy. 


174         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

to  our  sight.  Nothing  can  be  more  certain,  than  that  his 
writings,  ever  since  the  period  of  their  publication,  have 
been  more  admired  than  understood.  This  writer's  mean- 
ing, says  the  very  learned  Brucker,  who  has  a  right  to  pro- 
nounce an  opinion,  as  with  the  aid  of  an  excellent  judgment 
and  quick  apprehension,  he  spent  the  greater  portion  of  a 
long  life,  in  searching  out  the  theories  of  the  ancient  philoso- 
phers.— This  writer's  meaning,  says  he,  is  frequently  lost  in 
the  obscurity  of  subtil  distinctions;  and  sometimes  after  the 
Egyptian  manner,  concealed  under  the  cloak  of  fables.  The 
implicit  followers  of  this  philosopher,  have  been  willing  to 
exculpate  their  master  from  the  charge  of  obscurity,  by  ac- 
cusing his  readers  of  dullness  in  their  conceptions.  But  those 
who  have  attended  to  the  origin  of  the  Platonick  philoso- 
phy will  acknowledge,  that  it  partakes  largely  of  the  charac- 
ter of  subtilty  and  enthusiasm,  which  distinguished  the  Py- 
thagorean system.  In  such  a  wondrous  maze  of  words, 
does  Plato  involve  his  notions,  that  none  of  his  disciples, 
not  even  the  sagacious  Stagyrite,  could  unfold  them;  and 
yet  we  receive  them  as  sacred  mysteries,  and  if  we  do  not 
perfectly  comprehend  them,  imagine  that  our  intellects  are 
too  feeble  to  penetrate  the  conceptions  of  this  divine  philo- 
sopher; and  that  our  eyes  are  blinded  by  that  resplendent 
blaze  of  truth,  upon  which  his  eagle  sight  could  gaze  with- 
out injury.  This  will  be  acknowledged  by  every  one,  who, 
in  perusing  the  philosophical  writings  of  Plato,  is  capable  of 
devesting  himself  of  that  blind  respect  for  antiquity,  by  which 
the  learned  so  frequently  suffer  themselves  to  he  misled.  In 
confirmation  of  the  propriety  of  this  judgment,  we  need  only 
refer  to  the  dialogue  entitled  Timoeus,  a  chaotick  mass  of 
opinions,  which  no  commentators  have  yet  been  able  to  re- 
concile or  explain."  Such  are  the  sentiments  of  Brucker,  in 
regard  to  the  writings  of  Plato.  Of  his  philosophy,  how- 
ever, as  far  as  it  can  be  ascertained,  amidst  this  ambiguity 
of  expressions,  the  following  account  may  be  given.     He 


Opiniotis  of  Philosophers  about  Perception,        \7S 

maintains  that  there  were  originally  three  principles,  from 
which  all  things  proceeded,  God,  matter,  and  ideas.  God 
was  the  principle  of  intelligence,  matter  was  eternal  and  in- 
finite, and  ideas  were  the  eternal  patterns  or  archetypes,  ac- 
cording to  which  things  were  formed.  Concerning  these 
patterns  or  archetypes,  he  writes  so  obscurely,  that  his  fol- 
lowers and  interpreters,  have  been  led  to  adopt  very  differ- 
ent opinions.  Some,  as  those  of  the  Alexandrian  school, 
called  the  latter  Platonists,  affirm  that  the  whole  of  Plato's 
doctrine,  on  the  formation  of  the  world,  amounts  to  nothing 
more,  than  that  the  deity  employed  his  understanding  or 
reason  in  planning  and  executing  the  system  of  the  uni- 
verse; and  consequently  by  ideas,  eicones  or  paradeigmata, 
existing  in  the  reason  of  God,  are  only  meant  conceptions  in 
the  divine  mind.  This  view  of  the  subject  entertained  by 
the  latter  Platonists,  is  certainly  the  only  one  which  renders 
his  doctrine  rational  or  intelligible;  since  the  Deity  must  have 
had  his  plans,  before  he  proceeded  to  the  formation  of  the 
universe.  In  favour  of  this  opinion  too,  we  find  no  less  an 
author  than  the  learned  Dr.  Cudworth,  who,  in  his  intellec- 
tual system,  speaks  in  the  following  style.  After  quoting 
the  opinion  of  Tertullian  in  his  book,  de  anima,  which  is  in 
these  words;  vult  Plato  esse  quasdam  substantias  invisibiles, 
incorporeales,  supermundiales,  divinas  et  eternas,  quas  ap- 
pellat  ideas,  id  est  formas  et  exempla,  et  causas  naturalium 
istorum  manifestorum  et  subjacentium  corporalibus;  et  illas 
quidem  esse  veritates,  haec  autem  imagines  earum — thus 
translated  by  him;  Plato  conceiveth  that  there  are  certain 
substances,  invisible,  incorporeal,  supermundial,  divine  and 
eternal,  which  he  calls  ideas,  that  is,  forms,  exemplars,  and 
causes  of  all  these  natural  and  sensible  things,  they  being  the 
truths,  but  the  other  the  images;  he  proceeds — "  Neither  can 
it  be  denied,  that  there  are  some  odd  expressions  in  Plato, 
sounding  this  way;  who,  therefore,  may  not  be  justified  in 
this,  nor  I  think  in  some  other  conceits  of  his,   concerning 


17S         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

these  ideas;  as  when  he  contends,  that  they  are  not  only  the 
objects  of  science,  but  also  the  proper  and  physical  causes 
of  all  things  here  below;  as  for  example,  that  the  ideas  of 
similitude  and  dissimilitude,  are  the  causes  of  the  likeness 
and  unlikeness  of  all  things  to  one  another,  by  their  partici- 
pation of  them.  Nevertheless,  it  cannot  be  at  all  doubted, 
but  that  Plato  himself,  and  most  of  his  followers,  very  well  un- 
derstood, that  these  ideas  were  all  of  them  really  nothing  else, 
but  the  noemata  or  conceptions  of  that  one  perfect  intellect, 
who  was  their  second  hypostasis;  and  therefore,  they  could 
not  look  upon  them  in  good  earnest,  as  so  many  distinct  sub- 
stances, existing  severally  and  apart  by  themselves  out  of 
any  mind,  however  they  were  guilty  of  some  extravagant 
expressions,  concerning  them."  Others  differ  in  opinion 
from  Dr.  Cudworth  in  this  respect;  and  Brucker  asserts, 
that  Plato  appears  to  have  meant  by  his  term  ideas,  some- 
thing much  more  mysterious,  viz.  patterns  or  archetypes, 
subsisting  by  themselves  as  real  beings  in  the  divine  reason; 
as  in  their  original  and  eternal  region,  issuing  thence  to  give 
form  to  sensible  things,  and  become  the  objects  of  contem- 
plation and  science  to  rational  beings.  Conformably  to  this 
notion,  Diogenes  is  said,  when  once  dining  at  the  table  of 
Plato,  who  was  descanting  upon  the  favourite  topic  of  his 
eternal  models,  which  alone  are  the  objects  of  science,  to 
have  exclaimed  with  his  usual  cynical  asperity,  I  see  that 
table,  and  that  goblet,  Plato,  but  I  do  not  see  tableity  or  go- 
bleity;  to  whom  Plato  rejoined,  that  is,  because  you  look  at 
them  with  the  eyes  of  your  body,  and  not  with  those  of  the 
mind.  The  question,  then,  if  it  were  of  any  importance,  as 
it  undoubtedly  is  not,  is  likely  to  remain  forever  undecided. 
If  notwithstanding  the  proofs  to  the  contrary,  we  could  be- 
lieve with  Dr.  Cudworth  and  the  Platonists  of  the  Alexan- 
drian school,  that  Plato  meant  nothing  else  by  his  ideas,  ex- 
emplars or  models,  but  the  conceptions  of  the  divine  mind, 
©r  the  plans  by  which  the  Creator  formed  every  part  of  the 


Opiniojis  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.         177 

universe,  the  doctrine  would  not  only  be  rendered  intelligi- 
ble, but  perfectly  just  and  philosophical.  What  is  the  object 
of  all  philosophy,  but  to  investigate  the  plans,  upon  which 
the  Creator  hath  constructed  the  various  parts  of  nature? 
What  did  Newton,  when  he  revealed  to  us  the  structure  and 
laws  of  the  solar  system;  or  Locke,  when  he  disclosed  and 
solved  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind;  or  Harvey,  when 
he  discovered  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  but  unfold  new 
views  of  the  secret  counsels  of  the  Supreme  Being,  in  the 
construction  of  these  several  departments  of  the  world?  Phi- 
losophy, which  has  been  denominated  the  science  of  causes, 
might  with  equal  propriety,  without  involving  any  of  the 
fancies  and  sublime  visions  of  Plato,  be  defined  to  be  an  at- 
tempt, as  far  as  the  human  mind  is  competent  to  the  task, 
to  disclose  the  secret  plans  of  the  Creator,  in  his  adjustment 
of  the  several  departments,  both  of  the  physical  and  moral 
world. 

In  reference  to  perception,  I  find  nothing  satisfactory  in 
Plato.  Sense,  he  defined  to  be,  the  passive  perception  of  the 
soul,  through  the  medium  of  the  body.  Visible  things,  were 
regarded  by  him  as  fleeting  shades,  and  ideas  the  only  per- 
manent substances.  These  last,  he  conceived  to  be  the  great 
objects  of  science,  to  a  mind  raised  by  divine  contempla- 
tions, above  the  perpetually  varying  scenes  of  the  material 
world.  Dr.  Reid  imagines,  however,  that  he  has  found  a 
passage  in  Plato,  the  only  one  to  which  he  refers,  in  confir- 
mation of  his  doctrines  concerning  ideas.  "  Plato,"  says  he, 
"  illustrates  our  manner  of  perceiving  objects  of  sense,  in 
this  manner.  He  supposes  a  dark  subterranean  cave,  in 
which  men  lie  bound  in  such  a  manner,  that  they  can  di- 
rect their  eyes  only  to  one  part  of  the  cave.  Far  behind 
there  is  a  light,  some  rays  of  which  come  over  a  wall  to  that 
part  of  the  cave,  which  is  before  the  eyes  of  our  prisoners — 
a  number  of  persons  variously  employed,  pass  between  them 
and  the  light,  whose  shadows  are  seen  by  the  prisoners,  but 

z 


178         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

not  the  persons  themselves.  In  this  manner,  that  philoso- 
pher conceived,  that  by  our  senses  we  perceive  the  shadows 
of  things  only,  and  not  things  themselves."  The  Dr.  must 
have  been  at  extreme  difficulty  to  find  his  theory  of  ideas 
in  the  doctrine  of  Plato,  before  he  would  have  pressed  this 
passage  into  his  service,  which  is  to  be  found  in  his  seventh 
book  of  a  republic,  and  which  has  certainly  no  more  relation 
to  the  subject  of  perception,  than,  according  to  the  account 
given  by  Le  Sage,  the  cave  into  which  Gil  Bias  was 
transported  by  the  robbers.  It  is  strange,  that  this  passage 
should  have  been  so  greatly  perverted  from  its  evident  im- 
port; and  it  could  have  been  so  misconstrued  only  from  in- 
attention to  the  spirit  of  Plato's  philosophy,  and  the  strain 
of  doctrine  on  such  points,  which  he  keeps  up  throughout  all 
his  works.  Dr.  Spens,  the  intelligent  translator  of  his  trea- 
tise concerning  a  republic,  much  more  consistently  with  its 
drift,  considers  it  as  having  a  correspondence  with  the  doc- 
trine of  Christianity,  about  the  original  blindness  and  depra- 
vity of  mankind,  and  their  need  of  supernatural  instruction. 
"  Our  author's  subterranean  cave,"  says  he,  "so  elegantly 
described,  and  so  universally  known,  may  be  considered  as 
another  instance  of  a  conformity  in  his  sentiments,  with  those 
contained  in  revelation.  It  gives  us  a  lively  representation 
of  the  ignorance  and  degeneracy  of  mankind,  in  the  present 
state,  where  numbers  are  busied  in  pursuing  shadows,  as  the 
only  real  and  substantial  goods;  while  they  neglect  the  cul- 
ture of  the  mind,  and  never  raise  their  ideas,  to  the  beauty 
and  perfection  of  that  supreme  intelligence,  which  is  the 
origin,  and  the  end  of  all."  This  is  a  just  observation,  and 
the  passage  of  Plato  is  susceptible  of  such  a  turn,  and  may 
be  naturally  improved  to  the  purpose  this  author  contem- 
plated; but  I  apprehend  the  immediate  intent  of  Plato,  in 
this  portion  of  his  work,  may  be  easily  ascertained,  by  tak- 
ing into  view  his  peculiar  opinions,  and  the  whole  strain  of 
his  doctrine  throughout  this  particular  treatise.  He  had  been 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception,         179 

maintaining  the  propositions,  that  states  would  be  happy^ 
when  they  should  have  philosophers  for  their  rulers,  who 
instead  of  desiring  public  employments,  would  rather  fly 
from  them;  and  these  philosophers  were  men,  who  instead 
of  being  misled-  by  the  mere  shadows  of  things,  presented 
from  without,  by  objects  which  are  in  a  perpetual  flux,  and 
from  which  no  real  knowledge  could  be  derived,  devoted 
themselves  to  the  contemplation  of  Supreme  Intelligence,  and 
those  eternal  forms  or  models  which  are  permanent,  as  of 
justice,  truth,  beauty,  &c.  He  himself  furnishes  us  in  the 
very  first  sentence,  with  a  key  that  unlocks  the  mysteries 
contained  in  this  allegory;  and  in  allegorical  representations, 
from  the  natural  fertility  of  his  fancy,  he  seems  to  take  great 
delight.  It  begins  thus — "  After  these  things  now,"  said  I, 
"  compare,  with  reference  to  instruction,  and  the  want  of  in- 
struction, our  nature  to  such  a  condition  as  follows."  It  is 
evident,  that  they  are  those  in  the  cave,  and  who  can  see 
only  the  shadows  of  things,  who  are  said  to  want  instruc- 
tion; and  those  who  are  instructed,  are  they,  who  ascending 
to  the  regions  of  intelligence,  can  contemplate  things,  as  they 
are  in  their  real  substantial  models.  He  proceeds — "  Con- 
sider men  as  in  a  subterranean  habitation,  resembling  a  cave, 
with  its  entrance  opening  to  the  light,  and  answering  to  the 
whole  extent  of  the  cave.  Suppose  them  to  have  been  in  it 
from  their  childhood,  with  chains  both  on  their  legs  and 
necks,  so  as  to  remain  there,  and  only  be  able  to  look  before 
them,  but  by  the  chain,  incapable  to  turn  their  heads  around; 
suppose  them  to  have  light  of  a  fire,  burning  far  above  and 
behind  them;  and  that  between  the  fire  and  chained  men, 
there  is  a  road  above  them.  Along  which,  observe  a  low 
wall,  built  like  that  which  hedges  in  the  stage  of  mounte- 
banks, on  which  they  show  to  men  their  wonderful  tricks. 
Observe  now  along  this  wall,  men  bearing  all  sorts  of  uten- 
sils, raised  above  the  wall,  and  human  statues,  and  other 
animals  in  wood,  and  stone,  and  all  sorts  of  furniture.     Do 


180         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception, 

you  imagine,  that  such  as  these  see  any  thing  of  themselves, 
or  of  one  another,  but  the  shadows  formed  by  the  fire,  fall- 
ing on  the  opposite  part  of  the  cave?"  Not  to  be  prolix  in 
my  quotations.  He  continues — After  exhibiting  them  as 
passing  and  repassing  from  the  cave  to  the  light  above,  he 
gives  us  the  moral  meaning,  couched  in  the  alk  gory,  as  in- 
telligible as  language  can  make  it.  "  The  whole  of  this 
comparison  now,"  said  I,  friend  Glauco,  "  is  to  be  applied  to 
our  preceding  discourse.  For  if  you  compare  this  region, 
which  is  seen  by  the  sight,  to  the  habitation  of  the  prison, 
and  the  light  of  the  fire  in  it,  to  the  power  of  the  sun,  and 
the  ascent  above,  and  the  sight  of  things  above,  to  the  soul's 
ascent  into  the  region  of  intelligence,  you  will  apprehend 
my  meaning,  since  you  want  to  hear  it.  But  God  knows 
v/hether  it  be  true.  Appearances  then  to  me  appear  in  this 
manner.  In  the  intellectual  world,  the  idea  of  the  good  is 
most  remote,  and  scarcely  to  be  seen;  but  if  it  be  seen,  it  is 
to  be  deemed,  as  indeed  the  cause  to  all  of  all  things, 
right  and  beautiful,  generating  in  the  visible  worldjight  and 
its  principle  the  sun,  and  in  the  intellectual  world,  it  is  itself 
the  principle,  producing  truth  and  intelligence,  and  that  this 
must  be  beheld  by  him,  who  is  to  act  wisel\  either  private- 
ly, or  in  public."  He  concludes  the  application  thus — "  But 
what?  Do  you  imagine  this  any  thing  wonderful,  that  when 
one  comes  from  divine  contemplations  to  human  evils,  he 
should  behave  awkwardly,  and  appear  extremely  ridiculous, 
^vhilst  yet  the  light  is  in  his  eyes,  and  he  is  obliged,  before 
he  is  sufficiently  accustomed  to  the  present  darkness,  to  con- 
tend in  courts  of  justice  or  elsewhere,  about  the  shadows  of 
justice,  or  those  statues,  which  occasion  the  shadows;  and 
to  dispute  about  this  point,  how  these  things  are  conceived 
of,  by  those  who  have  never  at  any  time  beheld  justice  it- 
self?" 

These  passages   are  deemed   sufficient,  unequivocally  to 
explain  the  meaning  of  Plato  in  this  celebrated  allegory; 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.         181 

and  to  show,  that  it  has  not  the  most  remote  connection 
with  the  subject  of  perception.  With  this  view  of  the  sub- 
ject, Brucker's  account  entirely  corresponds.  Plato's  con- 
ceptions on  this  subject,  are  beautifully  expressed,"  says  he, 
"  in  a  passage  of  his  Republic,  in  which  he  compares  the . 
state  of  the  human  mind,  with  respect  to  the  material  and 
intellectual  world,  to  that  of  a  man,  who  in  a  cave,  into 
which  no  light  can  enter  but  by  a  single  passage,  views 
upon  a  wall  opposite  to  the  entrance,  the  shadows  of  exter- 
nal objects,  and  mistakes  them  for  realities.  So  strongly 
was  his  imagination  impressed  with  this  conception,  that  in 
the  election  of  magistrates  for  his  republic,  he  required  that 
no  one  should  be  chosen,  who  had  not  by  the  habitual  con- 
templation of  the  world  of  ideas,  attained  a  perfect  power  of 
abstraction." 

From  Plato,  we  proceed  to  examine  the  sentiments  of 
Aristotle.  Hermolaus  Barbarus,  bishop  of  Aquileia,  is  said 
to  have  consulted  the  devil,  to  discover  the  meaning  of 
Aristotle's  entelecheia,  and  as  he  never  made  report  of  any 
satisfactory  answer  returned  by  his  satanic  majesty  to  his 
interrogatories,  the  word  still  remains  unexplained  to  puzzle 
the  heads,  and  addle  the  brains  of  learned  Sorbonnists. 
Scarcely  any  one  since  the  revival  of  learning,  has  underta- 
ken to  become  interpreter  of  the  opinions  of  this  philoso- 
pher, who  has  not  been  sensible  of  the  extreme  difficulty  of 
ascertaining  them;  of  the  very  great  darkness  in  his  modes 
of  reasoning;  and  of  the  obscurity,  in  some  instances,  impe- 
netrable obscurity  of  his  style. 

Dr.  Reid  speaks  of  his  affected  obscurity;  but  perhaps,  no 
one  ever  wrote,  who  appears  to  be  more  free  from  the  charge 
of  affectation.  He  is  one  of  the  driest,  but  at  the  same  time, 
most  serious  and  unostentatious  of  all  writers;  and  composes 
like  a  pure  intelligence,  v/ho  considers  language  merely  as  a 
medium,  by  which  his  thoughts  are  to  be  communicated;  and 
seems  utterly  to  loose  sight  of  all  the   usual  ornaments  of 


182  Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

style,  or  embellishments  of  fancy.  His  extreme  obscurity 
in  many  pnrts  of  his  works,  probably  may  be  explained,  from 
the  sententious  brevity  of  expression,  for  which  he  is  so  re- 
markable; and  from  a  consideration  which  has  not,  I  think, 
been  sufficiently  adverted  to,  that  during  the  prevalence  of 
such  a  philosophy  as  his,  there  must  have  been  many  com- 
binations of  ideas,  and  many  terms  and  phrases  to  express 
them,  which,  although  perfectly  familiar  to  his  contempora- 
ries, and  easily  compreViended  by  them,  can  never  be  restor- 
ed to  us,  from  the  oblivion  into  which  they  have  sunk,  and 
therefore  must  forever  remain  unintelligible.  Amidst  this 
darkness,  however,  it  is  to  be  remarked,  of  conception  and 
expression,  there  occasionally  springs  up  a  clear  and  won- 
derful light,  sufficient  to  disclose  to  us  the  manly  force  of 
his  reason,  and  the  amazing  depth  of  his  penetration.  His 
insight  into  all  the  departments  of  nature,  which  successive- 
ly came  under  his  investigation,  and  he  cultivated  a  large 
circle  of  sciences,  was  wonderful;  and  his  philosophy  alto- 
gether for  the  times  in  v/hich  he  lived,  and  the  very  scanty 
portion  of  aid  which  he  could  have  received  from  the 
hands  of  contemporary  l?bourers,  a  stupendous  monument  of 
his  genius.  What  profoundness  and  comprehension  of  mind, 
what  close  and  intense  thought,  what  patient  and  persever- 
ing efforts,  in  the  adjustment  and  construction  of  a  system, 
does  his  logic  alone  display?  It  exhibits  at  once  all  the  diffi- 
culty in  the  construction,  the  magnificence,  and  the  useless- 
ness  of  a  pyramid. 

In  reference  to  the  subject  of  perception,  although  it  is 
not  to  be  denied,  that  on  this  point  also,  there  is  occasionally 
great  obscurity  in  his  phraseology;  yet  it  is  sufficiently  clear 
that,  as  far  as  he  advances  in  the  investigation,  his  opinions 
exactly  coincide  with  those  of  Mr.  Locke.  Like  the  English 
metaphysician,  he  maintains,  that  all  our  ideas  originate  in 
the  perceptions  of  sense;  that  the  action  of  the  several  bodies 
upon  our  external  organs,  through  their  media,  is  necessary 


Gpintons  of  Philosophers  about  Perception,  183 

to  perception,  and  is  the  cause  of  it;  and,  moreover,  that  to  the 
different  modifications  of  motion  produced  in  our  corporeal 
system  by  the  qualities  of  bodies,  is  to  be  ascribed  the  differ- 
ence in  our  sensations.  Thus  light  passing  from  the  object 
to  the  eye  occasions  vision;  the  effluvia  of  bodies  striking 
upon  the  nostril,  occasion  the  sensation  of  smell;  and  undu- 
lations of  air  upon  the  ear,  those  of  sound,  and  so  of  the  rest. 
Thus  far  he  travelled  with  Mr.  Locke,  on  the  road  that  leads 
through  the  dark  and  shadowy  fields  of  the  science  of  mind. 
But  if  Mr.  Locke  was  acquainted  with  the  works  of  Aristo- 
tle, and  I  find  no  proofs  from  his  productions  that  he  was, 
except  as  they  were  taught  in  the  schools,  he  could  have  de- 
rived very  little  advantage  from  the  illustrious  (:«reek,  as  he 
has  merely  left  a  few  hints  on  those  topics,  which  Mr.  Locke 
has  fully  investigated.  The  first,  at  best,  can  be  considered 
but  as  having  raised  the  vestibule,  while  the  latter  has  com- 
pleted the  magnificent  temple  of  moral  science.  But  to  re- 
vert to  our  subject.  Not  a  single  passage  can  be  adduced 
from  Aristotle,  that  shows  him  to  have  believed,  that  an  idea 
is  an  image,  or  representative  of  the  outward  object  in  the 
mind;  and  which  alone,  in  the  act  of  perception,  is  contem- 
plated by  the  mind.  The  only  passage  referred  to  by  Dr. 
Reid,  in  proof  of  his  holding  what  he  calls  the  common  the- 
ory of  ideas,  is  in  his  2d  book,  de  anima,  ch.  12.  "  He  defines 
a  sense,"  says  the  Dr.  "  to  be  that  which  is  capable  of  re- 
ceiving the  sensible  forms  or  species  of  objects,  without  any 
of  the  matter  of  them;  as  wax  receives  the  form  of  the  seal 
without  the  matter  of  it.  The  forms  of  sound,  of  colour,  of 
taste,  and  of  other  sensible  qualities,  are  in  like  manner  re- 
ceived by  the  senses. 

It  seems  to  be  a  necessary  consequence  of  Aristotle's  doc- 
trine, that  bodies  are  constantly  sending  forth  in  all  direc- 
tions, as  many  different  kinds  of  forms  without  matter,  as 
they  have  different  sensible  qualities;  for  the  forms  of  colour 
must  enter  by  the  eye,  the  forms  of  sound  by  the  ear,  and  so  of 


184  Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception^ 

the  other  senses.  This  accordingly  was  maintained  by  the  fol- 
lowers of  Aristotle;  though  not,  as  far  as  I  know,  expressly 
mentioned  by  himself.  They  disputed  concerning  the  nature 
of  those  forms  or  species,  whether  they  were  real  beings  or 
non-entities;  and  some  held  them  to  be  of  an  intermediate 
nature  between  the  two.  The  whole  doctrine  of  the  Peripa- 
teticks  and  schoolmen,  concerning  forms  substantial  and  ac- 
cidental, and  concerning  the  transmission  of  sensible  species, 
from  objects  of  sense  to  the  mind,  if  it  be  at  all  intelligible, 
is  so  far  above  my  comprehension,  that  I  should  perhaps  do 
it  injustice,  by  entering  into  it  more  minutely.  Mallebranche 
in  his  Recherche  de  la  verite,  has  employed  a  chapter  to  show, 
that  material  objects  do  not  send  forth  sensible  species  of 
their  several  sensible  qualities." 

It  will  be  remarked,  in  this  passage,  that  the  author  consi- 
ders the  whole  doctrine  of  sensible  species  as  unintelligible, 
and  above  his  comprehension;  and  moreover,  that  the  neces- 
sary consequence  from  Aristotle's  doctrine,  viz.  that  bodies 
are  constantly  sending  forth  in  all  directions,  as  many  differ- 
ent kinds  of  forms  without  matter,  as  they  have  different 
sensible  qualities,  although  maintained  by  his  followers,  is  no 
where  expressly  mentioned  by  Aristotle.  Now,  under  these 
circumstances,  would  it  not  have  been  natural  to  conclude, 
that  no  such  doctrine  could  be  asserted  by  such  an  acute 
thinker,  who  was  not  likely  to  be  contented  with  an  incom- 
prehensible jargon,  whatever  be  the  interpretation  given  of 
him  by  the  schoolmen?  Accordingly  we  find  that  in  the 
chapter  abovementioned,  Aristotle,  so  far  from  maintaining 
the  opinion  ascribed  to  him  of  sensible  species,  is  simply  as- 
serting, that  in  every  instance  of  perception,  there  must  be  an 
action  of  the  several  media  upon  the  organs  of  sense,  as  of  a 
seal  upon  wax;  as  for  instance,  of  light  upon  the  eye,  of  agi- 
tations of  air  upon  the  ear,  &c.  Would  it  not  be  strange  if 
he  asserted  the  doctrine,  that  sensible  species,  or  forms  with- 
out matter,  passed  through  the  organ  and  entered  into  the 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception,         185 

mind;  when  he   is  no  where  found  expressly  stating  it,  but 
only  establishing  principles  from  which  this  is   conceived  to 
be  an  inference?     Could  he  have  failed  to  discern  the  glar- 
ing absurdity  of  such  expressions  as,  the  forms  of  sound,  of 
colour  and  taste,  passing  through  the  organ,  and   making  an 
impression  upon  the  mind?     Nothing  can  be  more  certain  to 
my  mind,  than  that  all  he  maintained,  is,  that  in   perception 
there  is  an  action  necessary  upon  the  organ  through  a  medi- 
um, and  to  that   action  upon  the  organ,  there  is  annexed  a 
thought  of  the  mind,  and  this  is  nothing  more  than  is  true. 
Hence  in   his  treatise  de  Ccelo,  we  find   him   reproving  De- 
mocritus,  as  is  remarked  by  Dr.  Gillies,  for  saying,  that  if 
there  was  a  perfect  vacuum,  we  should  see  a  pissmire  in  the 
Heavens,  asserting  in  contradiction  to  this,  that  if  there  were 
a  vacuum,  we  could  see  nothing,   as  the  operation  of  some 
medium  upon  the  organs  is  essential  to  vision,  as   well  as 
every  other  perception.  His  term,  eidos,  totally  distinct  from 
the  idea  of  Plato  and  the  Pythagoreans,  is  not  always  used 
by  him  with  distinctness  and  accuracy,  hut  when  he  means 
to  denote  by  it  that  which  is  occasioned  in  the  mind  by  the 
action  of  the  several  media  of  bodies,  upon  our  external  or- 
gans, it  is  clear  that  he   considers   it  as   equivalent  to  our 
word,  thought,  sensation,  or  perception.     That  he  does  not 
admit  that  there  is  any  intermediate  object  between  the  mind 
that  perceives,  and  the  object  perceived  without,  appears 
perfectly  certain,  and  we  find  expressly  affirmed  by  Dr.  Gil- 
lies, who   appears  to  have  studied   the  whole  of  Aristotle's 
works,  with   more  care  and  attention,   than  either  Dr.  Reid, 
or  the  writer  of  this  article.     "  To  prevent  the  possibility  of 
mistake,"  says  Dr.  Gillies,  in  one  of  his  notes  to  the  analy- 
sis of  the  works  of  Aristotle,  "To  prevent  the  possibility  of 
mistake  or  obscurity  in  the  above  note,  it  is  necessar}'  to  ob- 
serve that  the  word,  idea,  in  English  is  popularly  used,  not 
merely  to  denote   an  object  of  thought,  but  thought   itself. 
To  deny  ideas  in  this  latter  sense  is  to  deny  thinking.     But 

A  a 


18G         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

this  is  not  the  philosophical  meaning  of  the  word,  as  under- 
stood by  the  pretended  followers  of  Aristotle,  any  more  than 
by  Locke  in  his  essay  on  the  Human  Understanding:  by 
whom  ideas  are  said  to  be  the  objects  immediately  present 
to  the  mind  in  thinking.  No;  Aristotle  expressly  denies  the 
presence  or  existence  of  any  object  in  the  mind,  when  it  the- 
orises or  thinks,  distinct  from  the  act  of  the  mind  itself." 
If  Dr.  Gillies,  had  studied  Mr.  Locke  and  other  philoso- 
phers, as  well  as  he  studied  Aristotle,  he  would  have  found 
that  they  as  well  as  Aristotle,  were  free  from  the  charge, 
of  maintaining  the  opinion  which  he  denies  to  have  been  held 
by  the  Greek  philosopher.  "  Aristotle,"  proceeds  Dr.  Reid, 
"  held  it  as  a  maxim,  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  intellect 
which  was  not  at  first  in  the  senses.  He  thought  every  ob- 
ject of  human  understanding  enters  at  first  by  the  senses,  and 
that  the  notions  got  by  them,  are  by  the  powers  of  the  mind 
refined  and  spiritualized,  so  as  at  last  to  become  objects  of 
the  most  sublime  and  abstracted  sciences."  This  same  state- 
ment is  frequently  repeated  by  the  Dr.,  and  seems  to  be  the 
same,  which  Father  Mallebranche  had  long  before  given  of 
the  philosophy  of  the  schools.  La  plus  commune  opinion, 
says  Mallebranche,  ch.  2,  book  3d,  est  celle  des  Peripateti- 
ciens  qui  pretendent,  que  les  objects  de  dehors  envoyent  des 
especes  qui  leur  resemblent,  et  que  ces  especes  sont  portees 
par  les  sens  exterieurs  jusq'au  sens  confvmun;  ils  appellentces 
especes-la  impresses,  parceque  les  objets  les  impriment  dans 
les  sens  exterieurs.  Ces  especes  impresses  etant  materielles 
et  sensibles,  sont  rendues  intelligibles  par  I'intellect  agent  ou 
agissant,  et  sont  propres  pour  etre  i-ecues  dans  I'intellect  pa- 
tient. Ces  especes  ainsi  spiritualisees  sont  appellees  especes 
expresses,  parcequ'  elles  sont  exprimees  des  impresses;  et 
c'est  par  elles  que  I'intellect  patient  connoit  toutes  les  choses 
materielles."  It  appears,  therefore,  that  the  doctrine  here 
stated  by  Mallebranche,  is  undoubtedly,  that  which  was 
taught  in  the  schools  under  the  venerable  name  of  Aristotle- 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.         187 

but  I  suspect  it  would  put  any  one  to  his  wits'  end  to  find  it 
in  the  works  of  the  Stagyrite.  The  whole  process  by  which 
these  sensible  species  are  said  to  be  taken  up  by  the  active 
intelligent,  converted  into  intelligible  species,  or  so  refined 
and  spiritualized  as  to  become  objects  of  the  most  abstract 
and  sublime  sciences,  is  so  like  a  process  of  distillation  of 
ardent  spirits  from  cider,  or  the  preparation  of  brown  and 
loaf  sugar  from  the  sugar-cane;  as  to  have  rendered  the 
whole  theory  so  ridiculous,  that  nothing  could  have  pre- 
served it  from  contempt,  but  the  illustrious  name  of  him  who 
was  supposed  to  be  its  author.  It  never  could  have  been 
the  doctrine  of  that  profound  philosopher,  and  could  have 
been  hatched  only  in  the  brains  of  the  schoolmen,  which  teem- 
ed with  crudities  and  follies.  Dr.  Gillies  denies  that  there  is 
any  where  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  Aristotle,  that  maxim 
so  currently  received  as  his,  nihil  est  in  intellectu  quod  non 
prius  fuerit  in  sensu,  and  of  course  the  whole  of  the  doctrine 
built  upon  this  foundation,  must  fall  to  the  ground,  and  can 
never  be  ascribed  to  Aristotle  as  the  author. 

The  sentiments  of  Des  Cartes  will  be  found  exactly  ac- 
cordant to  those  of  Aristotle  and  Locke.  Too  much  praise 
cannot  be  bestowed  upon  Des  Cartes,  for  having  had  the 
boldness  to  undertake,  and  the  capacity  to  execute  the  task 
of  freeing  the  world  from  the  jargon  of  the  schools,  and,  as 
was  said  of  Socrates,  in  ancient  times,  having  called  down 
philosophy  from  the  clouds  of  hard  terms  and  incompre- 
hensible subtilties,  and  taught  her  to  converse  intelligibly  with 
men.  He  appears  in  many  parts  of  his  works  to  have  been 
deeply  sensible  of  the  utter  incom.petency  of  the  method  of 
philosophising  prevalent  among  the  schoolmen,  to  a  just  and 
true  investigation  of  nature.  This  was  an  opinion  so  universal- 
ly prevalent  among  the  learned  of  this  age,  that  it  could  not 
have  been  without  foundation.  They  all  seem,  however,  to 
have  evidently  done  great  injustice  to  Aristotle,  by  confound- 
ing his  principles  of  philosophy,  with  those  of  his  miserable 


188         opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception- 

interpreters,  the  schoolmen.  It  is  really  curious  to  remark, 
that  while  they  were  invtighing  with  so  much  vehemence  and 
force,  against  what  they  considered  as  the  Aristotelian  philoso- 
phy, they  were  so  faithfully  following  in  the  track  of  its  au- 
thor. I  by  no  means  pretend,  that  Aristotle  prosecuted  the 
plan  of  inquiry  proposed  by  lord  Bacon,  in  the  extent  to 
which  it  was  recommended  by  him,  and  I  shall  in  future  take 
the  opportunity  of  pointing  out  the  distinction  between  their 
methods  of  investigation;  but  who  of  them  has  rigidly  con- 
formed to  that  system?  Des  Cartes  made  many  experiments, 
but  yet  mixed  hypotheses  with  his  philosophical  solutions, 
and  Mallebranche  followed  him,  as  has  been  remarked  by 
Dr,  Rcid,  without  servile  imitation;  and  even  Bacon  in  the 
specimens  he  has  given  of  philosophical  disquisitions  has  not 
strictly  conformed  to  his  own  maxims.  Newton  and  Locke 
only  together  with  subsequent  philosophers,  have  been  able 
to  carry  into  practice  that  great  plan,  which  Bacon  fully  de- 
lineated, and  the  outlines  of  which  seem  to  have  presented 
themselves  to  Des  Cartes  and  Mallebranche. 

Aristotle  had  accurately  drawn  the  lines  of  distinction 
between  the  mind  and  body,  between  the  properties  and 
operations  of  the  one,  and  those  of  the  other,  and  in  this  re* 
Bpect  Des  Cartes  may  be  considered  as  having  improved 
upon  the  labours  of  his  predecessor.  He  made  the  distinc- 
tion between  the  primary  and  secondary  qualities  of  bodies 
which  had  been  unnoticed  by  Aristotle,  although  not  with 
the  accuracy  of  Mr,  Locke;  as  under  the  head  of  primary 
qualities  he  has  evidently  included  some  that  are  secondary. 
With  the  vortices  in  which  Des  Cartes  supposed  matter  to 
move,  in  order  to  account  for  the  existence  and  operations 
of  the  material  world,  or  the  other  parts  of  that  philosophy, 
which  obtained  through  his  ingenuity  and  talents  such  a 
complete  tri\imph  over  that  of  the  schools,  I  have  nothing 
to  do  at  present.  My  purpose  is  to  ascertain  the  doctrine 
•he  held  on  the    subject   of  perception.     "  The   writings   of 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception,  189 

Des  Cartes,  says    Dr.   Re  id,  have   in  general   a  remarkable 
degree  of  perspicuity;  and  he  undoubtedly  intended  that,  in 
this  particular,  his   philosophy  should  be  a   perfect  contrast 
to  that  of   Aristotle;  yet  in  what   he   has   said  in   different 
parts  of  his  writings,  of  our  perception  of  external  objects, 
there  seems  to   be   some  obscurity  and   even    inconsistency. 
Whether  owing  to  his   having  had   different  opinions  on  the 
subject,  at  different  times,  or  to  the  difficulty  he  found  in  it, 
I  will  not  pretend  to  say."     We  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that 
the  wiiole  of  the  difficulty  the    Dr.    finds  in   understandmg 
the  views  of  Des  Cartes  on   the   point  referred  to,   did  not 
arise  from  any  obscurity,  or  inconsistency  in  his  language  at 
different  times,  for  on  this  subject  he  expresses  himself  with 
the  same   perspicuity  as  at  other  times,  but  to  the  precon- 
ceived opinions  of  the  Dr.  himself.     He  expected  to  find  in 
him  the  grand  philosophical  heresy   of  images  in  the  mind, 
'of  an  idolatrous  worship  of  which  all  the  philosophers  are 
accused;  and  when  Des   Cartes   expresses  himself  either  in 
the  terms  of  art  used  in  the  schools,  or  according  to  ordinary 
acceptation  of  words,    as    when   we  say    we   could  form  no 
image    or   picture    of  a   thing    in  the    inind,  he  discovers 
some  ground   for  the  accusation;   but  when   Des    Cartes  ex- 
plains himself  with  technical  accuracy,  the   fallacy  appears, 
and  his  real  sentiments   are   exhibited.     Dr.  Reid  himself 
says,  that  Anthony  Arnauld,  Doctor  of  the  Sorbonne,  in  his 
controversy  with  Mallebranche,  denied  that  Des  Cartes  held 
those  opinions  about   ideas   which   that   Father  ascribed   to 
him,  and  declares  that  he  considered   them  as  nothing  more 
than  the  perceptions    or  thoughts    of  the    mind.     It    would 
give  me  great   pleasure   to  obtain  a  perusal  of  the  work  of 
Arnauld,  but  as  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  see  it,  I  must 
content  myself  with  remarking,   that  nothing  appears  to  me 
more  certain  than   that  his   representation  of  Des   Cartes's 
doctrine  was  just.     "There    are  two   points    in    particular, 
continues  Dr.  Reid,  speaking  of  Des  Cartes,  wherein  1  can- 


1^  opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

not  reconcile  him    with    himself.     The    first,  regarding  the 
place  of  the  ideas  or  images  of  external  objects,  which  are  the 
immediate  objects  of  perception;   the  second  with  regard  to 
the  veracity    of  our    external    senses.     As    to  the   first,  he 
sometimes  places  the  ideas  of  material   objects  in  the  brain, 
not  only  when  they  are    perctived,    but   when   they    are  re- 
membered or  imagined;  yet  he  sometimes  says,  that  we  are 
not  to  conceive  the  images  or  traces  in  the  brain,  to  be  per- 
ceived,  as   if  there  were  eyes   in   the  brain;  these  traces  are 
only  the  occ;.sions  on  which  by  the  laws  ot  the  union  of  soul 
and  body,  ideas  are  excited  in  the  mind;  and  therefore,  it  is 
not  necessary  that  there  should  be  an  exact  resemblance  be- 
tween the  traces,  and  the    things   represented   by  them,  any 
more  than  that  words    or  signs    should    be  exactly  like   the 
things  signified  by  them.     These  two  opinions,  1  think  can- 
not be  reconciled.     For  if  the   images  or  traces  in  the  brain 
are  perceived,  they  must   be    the  objt^cts    of  perception,  and 
not  the  occcasions  of  it  only.     On   the  other  hand,  if  they 
are  only  the  occasions  of  our  perceiving,  they  are  not  per- 
ceived at  all."     Such  is  the  reasoning  of  Dr.  Reid,  concern- 
ing Des  Cartes'  statement,  which  he    will  have   to  be  incon- 
sistent with  itself.     Now  we  think  nothing  can  be  more  easy 
than  to  loose  Des  Cartes  from  the  horns    of  this  notable  di- 
lemma.    "  If  the  images  or  traces  in  the  brain  are  perceived 
they  must  be  the  objects  of  perception,  and  not  the  occasions 
of  it  only.     On  the  other  hand,  if  they    are   only  the  occa- 
sions  of  our    perceiving,    they    are  not    perceived    at    all.'* 
Now  we  have  only  to  reply    in  defence   of  Des  Cartes,  that 
he  no  where  maintains  that  the  images  or  traces  in  the  brain 
are  ever  perceived,  for  that  would  be  a  frivolous  assumption 
in  attempting  to  explain  the  phenomenon  of  perception,  and 
leaving  it  as  much  unsolved  as  before;  but  that  he  unequivo- 
cally declares,   with  all  the  best  philosophers,  that  they  are 
the  traces  made  in  the  brain  by  the   action   of  the   several 
media  of  bodies,   which    cause,  or  occasion  perception  in 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.  191 

the  mind.  Hear  him  speak  in  his  Dioptricks,  chapter  sixth. 
After  explaining  by  means  of  a  diagram,  the  human  eye,  and 
the  formation  of  an  image  upon  the  retina,  which  image  he 
supposes  to  be  transferred  from  the  bottom  of  the  eye  to  the 
exterior  coat  of  the  brain,  and  to  be  there  distinctly  formed 
also,  which  we  admit  to  be  a  mere  hypothesis,  unsupported 
by  fact  or  experience;  for  although,  we  know  that  an  image 
is  formed  upon  the  retina,  we  have  no  proof  that  it  is  exten- 
ded to  the  brain  also;  he  proceeds.  "  Licet  autem  haec  pic- 
tura  sic  transmissa  in  cerebrum,  semper  allquid  similitudi- 
nis  ex  objectis,  a  quibus  venit,  retineat;  non  tamen  ab  id  cre- 
dendum  est  ut  supra  quoque  monuimus,  hanc  similitudinem 
esse  quae  facit  ut  ilia  sentiamus;  quasi  denuo  alii  quidam 
oculi  in  cerebro  nostro  forent,  quibus  illam  contemplari 
possemus.  Sed  potius  motus  esse  a  quibus  hsec  pictura 
componitur,  qui  immediate  in  animam  nostram  agentes, 
quatenus  ilia  corpori  unita  est,  a  natura  instituti  sunt,  ad 
sensus  tales  in  ea  excitandos — Quod  latius  hie  exponere 
libet — Omnes  qualitates,  quas  in  visus  objectis  percipimus, 
ad  sex  primarias  reduci  queunt,  ad  lumen  scilicet,  colorem, 
situm,  distantiam,  magnitudinem  et  figuram.  Et  primo 
quantum  ad  lumen  et  colorem,  quse  sola  pioprie  ad  sensum 
visionis  pertinent,  cogitandum  illam  animse  nostrse  naturam 
esse,  ut  per  vim  motuum,  qui  in  ilia  cerebri  regione  occur- 
runt,  unde  tenuia  nervorum  opticorum  fila  oriuntur,  luminis 
sensum  percipiat:  per  eorumdem  autem  motuum  divtrsi- 
tatem,  sensum  coloris.  Quemadmodum  per  motus  ner- 
vorum, auribus  respondentium,  sonos  dignoscit;  et  ex  moti- 
bus  nervorum  linguae,  varies  sapores;  et  in  universum,  ex 
motu  nervorum  totius  corporis  moderate,  quandam  titula- 
tionem  sentit;  et  dolorem  ex  violento;  quum  interea  in  his 
omnibus,  similitudine  nulla  opus  sit,  inter  ideas,  quas  ilia 
percipit,  et  motus  qui  earum  sunt  causse.  Here  we  per- 
ceive that,  although  in  the  act  of  vision  and  the  acts  of  the 
other  senses,  he    supposes    motion   to    be    produced    upon 


192  Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception, 

the   nervous  coat  and  the  brain,  and  moreover  in  vision,  an 
image  of  the  object  to  be   formed  upon  the  exterior  coat  of 
the  brain,   corresponding  to   that   upon  the  retina,  of  which 
he  had  no  proof;  yet  he  asserts   that  we  are   not  to  suppose 
that  the  mind  perceives  that  image  as  if  it  had  eyes  to  con- 
template it,  but  that  it  is  by  certain  motions  com.municated 
to  the  brain,  and  some  effect  produced   upon  the  mind,  by 
the  bodily  organs  which  are  connected  with  it,  that  percep- 
tion is  caused  or  occasioned.     This  will  be  found  to  be  the 
doctrine  of  Des  Cartes,  and  this  is  the  doctrine,  and  not  that 
of  images  in  the  mind  or  brain,  the  only  immediate  objects 
of  perception,  as   affirmed  by    Dr.   Reid,   in   which  all  the 
philosophers  discover  such  unanimity  of  opinion,  and  whose 
unanimity  affords  a  strong  presumption,  that  when  their  opi- 
nion is  rightly  understood,  it  is  founded  in  truth  and  nature. 
It  seems  to  be  a   high   degree    of  presumption  to  coi  elude, 
that    all    other    persons  but    ourselves,    however  illustrious, 
should  have  been  misled  by  prejudice,  and  blindfolded  in  their 
inquiries, by  a  frivolousand  ridiculous  theory.  ''It  is  to  be  ob- 
served, however,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  "  that  Des  Cartes  rejected 
a  part  only  of  the  ancient  theory,  concerning  the  perception  of 
external  objects  by  the  senses,  and  that  he  adopted  the  other 
part.   Thattheory  may  be  divided  into  two  parts;  the  first,  that 
images,  species,  or  forms  of  external  objects,  come  from  the 
object,  and  enter  by  the  avenues  of  the  senses  to  the  mind; 
the  second  part  is,  that  the  external  object  itself  is  not  per- 
ceived, but  only  the  species  or  image  of  it  in  the  mind.  The 
first    part,    Des    Cartes     and   his  followers    rejected,    and 
refuted  by  solid  arguments;  but  the  second  part,  neither  he 
nor  his  followers,  have  thought  of  calling  in  question;  being 
persuaded  that  it  is  only  a  representative  image  in  the  mind 
of  the  external  object,  that  we  perceive,  and  not  the  object 
itself.  And  this  image,  which  the  Peripateticks  called  a  spe- 
cies, he  calls  an  idea,  changing  the  name  only,  while  he  ad- 
mits the  thing."  The  Dr.  seems  determined,  that  Des  Cartes, 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.         193 

in  spite  of  any  thing  he  can  say  or  do,  shall  be  found  guilty 
of  abetting  the  ideal  theory.  If  he  rejected  the  sensible  spe- 
cies of  the  Peripateticks,  on  account  of  its  absurdity  and 
incomprehensibility,  it  would  seem  a  good  presumption,  that 
he  would  not  immediately  admit  another  doctrine,  that  of 
images  in  the  brain,  the  immediate  objects  of  perception, 
equally  absurd  and  incomprehensible;  and  moreover,  when  a 
new  difficulty  would  now  be  presented,  to  account  for  their 
intromission  into  the  mind  or  brain,  since  they  were  no  lon- 
ger admitted  to  derive  their  origin  from  external  objects, 
and  to  travel  through  the  organs  of  sense  to  the  sensorium. 
But  that  we  may  not  spend  time,  without  advantage,  in  the 
discussion  of  these  matters,  let  us  introduce  a  few  more  pas- 
sages from  the  works  of  Des  Cartes,  that  will  serve  to  elu- 
cidate his  views.  I  might  multiply  passages  without  limit, 
but  I  shall  content  myself  with  a  very  few;  leaving  it  to 
others,  to  examine  him  more  minutely,  if  they  entertain 
doubts  of  his  opinion.  In  chap.  4,  sect.  6,  of  his  Dioptricks, 
he  says — Observandumprseterea,  animamnullis  imaginibusab 
objectis  ad  cerebrum  missis  egere  ut  sentiat,  (contra  quam 
communiter  philosophi  nostri  statuunt,)  aut  ad  minimum, 
longe  aliter  illarum  imaginum  naturam  concipiendam  esse 
quam  vulgo  fit.  Nee  alia  causa  imagines  istas  fingere  eos  im- 
pulit,  nisi  quod  viderent  mentem  nostram  efficaciter  pictura 
excitari  ad  apprehendendum  objectum  illud,  quod  exhibet: 
ex  hoc  enim  judicarunt,  illam  eodem  modo  excitandam,  ad 
apprehendenda  ea  quse  sensus  movent,  per  exiguas  quasdam 
imagines  in  capite  nostro  delineatas.  Sed  nobis  Contra  est  ad- 
vertendum,  multa  prteter  imagines  esse,  quae  cogitationes  ex- 
citant, ut  exempli  gratia,  verba  et  signa,  nullo  modo  similia 
iis  quge  significant.  Here  the  reader  cannot  fail  to  observe, 
that  while  Des  Cartes  is  combatting  the  doctrine  of  the 
schoolmen,  that  there  must  be  images  in  the  brain,  resem- 
bling the  qualities  of  objects  without,  and  affirming  that  there 
is  no  necessity  for  such  similitude,  to  account  for  perception; 

B  b 


194         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

yet  he  considers  these  images,  or  representatives  of  objects, 
if  there  be  such,  not  as  the  objects  of  perception  to  the  mind, 
but  as  the  causes  of  perception. 

Multa  preeter  imagines  esse  qufe  cogitationes  excitant,  ex- 
empli gratia,  verba  et  signa.  Whatever  images,  therefore, 
Des  Cartes  admits  to  be  in  the  brain,  virhether  distant  or  re- 
mote, or  strict  in  their  similitude  to  the  objects  represented, 
he  evidently  regards  not  as  the  objects  of  perception,  but  as 
constituting  a  part  of  that  train  of  action  in  our  corporeal 
organs,  which  cause  or  occasion  perception.  Eodem  igitur 
modo  imagines,  he  continues,  in  cerebro  nostro  formatae, 
considerandfe  sunt,  et  notandum  tantummodo  quaeri,  qua 
ratione  animam  moveant,  ad  percipiendas  diversas  illas  qua- 
litates  objectorum  e  quibus  manant,  non  autem  quomodo 
ipsse  iis  similes.  Ut  quum  csecus  noster  varia  corpora  ba- 
culo  suo  impellit,  certum  est  ea  nullas  imagines  ad  cerebrum 
illius  mittere;  sed  tantum  diversimode  movendo  baculum, 
pro  variis  qualitatibus,  quse  in  iis  sunt,  eadem  opera  manus 
etiam  Ucrvos  diversimode  movere,  et  deinceps  loca  cerebri, 
unde  ii  descendunt;  cujus  rei  occasione  mens  totidem  di- 
versas qualitates  in  his  corporibus  dignoscit,  quot  varietates 
deprehendit  in  eo  motu,  qui  ab  iis  in  cerebro  excitatur. 
Again,  chap.  5,  he  says — Manifeste  itaque  videmus,  non 
opus  esse  ad  sentiendum,  ut  anima  contempletur  ullas  ima- 
gines qupe  reddant  id  ipsum  quod  sentitur.  Finally,  not  to  be 
tedious  with  quotations.  In  his  Treatise  on  the  Passions,  part 
1,  article  23 — Perceptiones  quae  referuntur  ad  res  extra  nos 
positas,  scilicet  ad  objecta  sensuum  nostrorum,  producuntur, 
Csaltem  cum  nostra  opinio  falsa  non  est)  ab  his  objectis  quse 
excitando  quosdam  motus  in  organis  sensuum  externorum, 
excitant  quoque  nonnullos  motus  opera  nervorum  in  cerebro, 
qui  efficlunt  ut  anima  ilia  sentiat;  sicuti  cum  videmus  lumen 
tedee  et  audimus  sonum  campanee,  hie  sonus  et  hoc  lumen 
sunt  duse  diversse  actiones,  quse,  per  id  solum  quod  excitant 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.         195 

duos  diversos  motus  in  quibusdam  ex  nostris  nervis  et  eo- 
rum  ope  in  cerebro,  dant  animse  duas  distinctas  sensationes. 
Mallebranche  embraced  the  Cartesian  philosophy,  to  which 
he  added  some  peculiar  tenets  of  his  own  invention.  Having 
a  mind  prone  to  philosophical  pursuits,  and  animated  by  an 
ardent  piety,  he  resolved  all  the  operations  of  nature,  into 
the  immediate  volition  and  agency  of  the  Deity.  His  doc- 
trine of  seeing  all  things  in  God,  savours  of  mysticism  and 
enthusiasm,  and  is,  undoubtedly,  as  Mr.  Locke  objects  to 
him,  utterly  incomprehensible.  The  difficulty  with  him, 
seems  to  have  been  to  explain  the  manner,  in  which  the  soul 
perceives  objects  that  are  at  a  distance  from  it,  as  the  sun, 
moon,  stars,  and  objects  revealed  to  us  by  sight.  The  pas- 
sage so  often  cited  from  him,  contains  his  views  on  this 
point.  "  I  suppose,"  says  he,  "•  that  every  one  will  grant, 
that  we  perceive  not  the  objects  that  are  without  us,  imme- 
diately and  of  themselves.  We  see  the  sun,  the  stars,  and 
an  infinity  of  objects  without  us;  and  it  is  not  at  all  likely, 
that  the  soul  sallies  out  of  the  body,  and,  as  it  were,  takes  a 
walk  through  the  heavens,  to  contemplate  all  those  objects. 
She  sees  them  not,  therefore,  by  themselves;  and  the  imme- 
diate object  of  the  mind  when  it  sees  the  sun,  is  not  the  sun, 
but  something  which  is  intimately  united  to  the  soul;  and 
it  is  that  which  I  call  an  idea.  So  that  by  the  word  idea,  I 
understand  nothing  else  here,  but  that  which  is  the  imme- 
diate object,  or  nearest  to  the  mind,  when  we  perceive  any 
object.  It  ought  to  be  carefully  observed,  that  in  order  to 
the  mind's  perceiving  any  object,  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
that  the  idea  of  that  object,  be  actually  present  to  it.  Of 
this  it  is  not  possible  to  doubt.  The  things  which  the  soul 
perceives  are  of  two  kinds.  They  are  either  in  the  soul,  or 
they  are  without  the  soul.  Those  that  are  in  the  soul  are  its 
own  thoughts,  that  is  to  say  all  its  different  modifications. 
The  soul  has  no  need  of  ideas  for  perceiving  these  things. 
But  with  regard  to  things  without  the  soul,  we  cannot  per- 


196         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

ceive  them  but  by  means  of  ideas."  While  Mallebranche 
rejected  the  doctrine  of  the  Peripateticks  about  sensible  spe- 
cies, he  here  broaches  one  having  a  natural  conjunction,  and 
close  affinity  to  it,  as  far  as  it  is  made  to  extend.  Had  he 
spoken  in  this  manner  of  all  our  ideas  of  external  objects, 
and  had  other  philosophers  joined  in  with  him,  then  the 
charge  of  Dr.  Reid  against  them,  would  have  been  easily 
sustained.  So  far,  however,  is  this  from  being  the  case,  that 
we  find  Mr.  Locke  expressly  animadverting  upon  his  senti- 
ments in  this  particular,  and  telling  him  that  his  doctrine  of 
seeing  all  things  in  God,  was  not  only  unintelligible,  but 
was  unsatisfactory  as  well  as  unnecessary,  as  a  solution  of 
the  phenomenon  of  seeing.  It  was  as  unnecessary  he  de- 
clares, to  have  recourse  to  the  agency  of  God  in  vision,  as  it 
would  be  in  the  other  perceptions  of  sense;  since  he  has  as 
distinct  a  conception,  how  rays  of  light  coming  from  a  body, 
and  striking  upon  the  eye,  and  thus  occasioning  an  action  in 
the  brain,  may  give  us  the  perception  of  visible  objects,  as 
of  the  manner  in  which  taste  is  produced  by  sapid  bodies, 
acting  upon  the  palate,  or  sound,  by  the  undulations  of  air 
striking  upon  the  ear.  The  idea  of  Mallebranche  undoubt- 
edly was,  that  when  we  look  at  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars, 
and  other  things  visible  in  nature,  we  do  not  perceive  those 
objects  themselves,  they  being  not  immediately  present  to 
the  soul,  but  we  perceive  the  ideas  or  images  of  them,  which 
are  immediately  present  to  it.  If  the  question  be  asked, 
where  do  these  ideas  exist?  the  answer  is  in  God.  If  the 
question  be  renewed,  in  what  way  do  we  perceive  them, 
thus  subsisting  in  the  divine  mind,  the  answer  again  is,  upon 
occasion  of  the  presence  of  the  sun,  moon,  &c.  God  enables 
us  by  his  action  upon  our  minds,  to  perceive  these  images 
or  representatives  of  things,  that  exist  in  him.  It  is  easy  to 
perceive  that  a  system  of  this  kind,  utterly  excludes,  as  far 
as  the  argument  extends,  an  exterior  world,  as  the  Creator 
could  give  us  these  ideas,  without  calling  the  objects  into 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.         197 

existence  at  all;  and  since  he  does  nothing  in  vain,  and  ac- 
complishes every  end  by  the  most  compendious  means,  there 
would  be  the  best  reason  to  conclude,  that  no  such  objects 
exist.  In  order,  however,  that  we  properly  determine,  how 
far  the  doctrine  of  Mallebranche  is  liable  to  the  objections 
of  Dr.  Reid,  let  us  endeavour  exactly  to  ascertain  it,  in  its 
whole  extent.  We  have  seen  that  he  maintains,  that  the  in- 
tervention of  ideas,  which  are  immediately  and  intimately 
present  to  the  mind,  is  necessary  to  our  perception  of  visible 
objects,  through  the  organ  of  the  eye.  This  doctrine,  how- 
ever, it  is  to  be  remarked,  absurd  as  it  is,  extends  only  to 
those  objects,  that  cannot  come  under  the  cognizance  of  any 
of  our  other  senses,  as  for  instance,  those  which  are  so  re- 
mote, that  we  can  neither  taste,  smell,  hear,  or  touch  them, 
but  which  can  be  revealed  to  us  only  by  the  sight.  Let  us  hear 
him  speak  for  himself,  as  he  certainly  must  be  the  best  in- 
terpreter of  his  own  opinions — II  est  certain  que  Fame  voit 
dans  elle-meme,  et  sans  idees,  toutes  les  sensations  et  toutes 
les  passions  dont  elle  est  actuellement  touchee,  le  plaisir, 
la  douleur,  le  froid,  la  chaleur,  les  couleurs,  les  sons,  les 
odeurs,  les  saveurs,  son  amours,  sa  haine,  sa  joye,  sa  tris- 
tesse  et  les  autres;  parceque  toutes  les  sensations  et  toutes 
les  passions  de  I'ame  ne  representent  rien  qui  soit  hors 
d'elle,  qui  leur  ressemble,  et  qui  ce  ne  sont  que  des  modifi- 
cations dont  un  esprit  est  capable;  mais  la  difficulte  est  de 
si^avoir,  si  les  idees  qui  representent  quelque  chose  qui  est 
hors  de  I'ame,  et  qui  leur  ressemble  en  quelque  fac^on,  com- 
me  les  idees  du  soleil,  d'une  maison,  d'un  cheval,  d'une  ri- 
viere &c.  ne  sont  que  des  modifications  de  I'ame;  de  sorte 
que  I'esprit  n'ait  besoin  que  de  I'uimeme,  pour  se  represente 
toutes  les  choses  qui  sont  hors  de  lui. 

Here  we  see  that  Mallebranche,  unfounded  as  his  theory 
is,  admits,  that  without  the  intervention  of  ideas  or  images, 
we  may  have  perceptions  of  all  the  secondary  qualities  of  bo- 
dies,aswellas  the  properties  and  operationsof  our  own  minds. 


198         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

Of  all  that  endless  store  of  thoughts,  therefore,  with  which 
the  capacious  mind  of  man  is  replenished,  the  only  cases  in 
which  he  supposes  the  interposition  of  ideas  necessary  as 
immediate  objects  of  perception,  are  those  X)f  the  extension 
and  figures  of  bodies,  as  revealed  to  us  by  sight.  So  easily 
does  that  system  vanish,  which  ascribes  to  philosophers  the 
doctrine,  that  all  our  ideas  of  outward  objects  are  the  images 
or  representatives  of  them,  and  the  only  immediate  objects 
of  perception!  Even  the  opinions  of  Mallebranche,  who  does 
not  appear  to  have  been  able,  entirely,  to  disentangle  himself 
from  the  subtilties  and  absurdities  of  the  schools,  are  but  in 
a  slight  degree  tinctured  with  it. 

I  pass  over  the  treatise  of  Norris,  as  unworthy  of  a  mo- 
ment's consideration,  as  he  has  only  taken  hold  of  the  weak- 
est, and  most  indefensible  part  of  Father  Mallebranche's 
system,  whose  opinions  he  embraced,  and  endeavoured  to 
recommend  it  to  attention  by  a  long  dissertation,  which  can 
only  serve  to  expose  it  to  contempt  and  ridicule.  In  his 
hands  the  theory  of  seeing  all  things  in  God,  which  in  its 
original  author,  is  made  to  rest  upon  the  foundation  of  a 
specious  and  ingenious  philosophy,  degenerates  into  a  fan- 
tastic and  vapoury  enthusiasm.  Hartley's  attempt  to  ex- 
plain all  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind,  upon  the  plau 
of  vibrations  and  vibratiancles,  or  minor  vibrations  in  the 
medullary  substance  of  the  brain,  is  unworthy  of  the  philo- 
sophy of  modern  times,  or  the  Baconian  age  of  science.  He 
commences  with  an  hypothesis,  unsupported  by  a  single 
fact  or  experiment;  and  as  the  whole  superstructure  rests 
upon  this  basis,  so  sandy  a  foundation  cannot  long  support 
its  edifice. 

Dr.  Priestley  remarks,  that  the  work  of  Dr.  Hartley  open- 
ed a  new  world  to  him.  My  feelings  upon  reading  it  have 
been  very  different,  as  I  have  always  found  it  a  large  de- 
mand upon  my  patience  to  toil  through  its  pages.  What  a 
delight  to  turn  from  the  perusal  of  such  a  writer,  where  un- 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.        199 

real  objects  and  visionary  scenes,  are  made  to  float  before 
the  fancy,  like  those  which  are  presented  in  a  dream,  or 
amidst  the  delirium  of  a  fever,  to  the  pure  and  clear  light 
of  Mr.  Locke's  treatise!  Here,  indeed,  we  find  the  moral 
world,  unfolded  to  us  in  all  the  beauty  and  magnificence,  in 
which  it  rose  under  the  hands  of  its  Creator!  Here  we  follow 
the  author  as  our  guide,  with  increasing  admiration;  while 
as  the  true  interpreter  of  nature,  he  conducts  us  through  the 
dark  and  shady  walks  of  metaphysical  science,  and  discloses 
to  us  the  wonders,  which  are  exhibited  in  this  department  of 
nature. 

Des  Cartes  made  the  pineal  gland  the  seat  of  the  soul,  and 
Sir  Isaac  Newton,  expresses  himself  in  a  query  to  this  ef- 
fect. "  Is  not  the  sensorium  of  animals,  the  place  v/here  the 
sentient  substance  is  present,  and  to  which  the  sensible  spe- 
cies of  things,  are  brought  through  the  nerves  and  brain, 
that  there  they  may  be  perceived  by  the  mind  present  in  that 
place?  And  is  there  not  an  incorporeal,  living,  intelligent, 
and  omnipresent  being,  who,  in  infinite  space,  as  if  it  were 
in  his  sensorium,  intimately  perceives  things  themselves,  and 
comprehends  them  perfectly,  as  being  present  to  themj  of 
V'hich  things,  that  principle  in  us  which  perceives  and  thinks, 
discerns  only  in  its  little  sensorium,  the  images  brought  to 
it  by  the  organs  of  the  senses."  These  expressions  have  been 
brought  to  favour  the  doctrine,  that  all  the  philosophers  re- 
ceived the  ideal  theory;  but  it  is  evident  that  Sir  Isaac  New- 
ton, in  this  case  is  merely  using  the  language  of  the  schools, 
without  probably  having  studied  or  weighed  well  the  tech- 
nical import  of  the  expressions,  and  that  he  intends  nothing 
more,  than  to  propose  it  as  a  question,  according  to  his 
usual  modesty,  when  he  did  not  think  the  proposition  he  was 
enunciating,  susceptible  of  demonstration  from  any  princi- 
ples of  science  known  at  the  time;  whether  the  sensorium  of 
animals  may  not  be  the  seat,  or  as  Mr.  Locke  calls  it,  the 
presence  chamber  of  the  soul,  in  which  through  the  inter- 


200         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception, 

mediation  of  the  senses,  it  receives  its  notices  of  external 
objects.  Without  probably  having  ever  taken  the  pains  to 
render  himself  master  of  the  subject,  he  merely  couches  his 
ideas  in  the  prevalent  phraseology  of  the  schools.  At  this 
there  is  no  cause  of  wonder,  since  the  language  even  of  Mr. 
Locke  himself,  who  had  so  thoroughly  studied  and  investi- 
gated the  subject,  is  occasionally  tinctured  with  the  same 
modes  of  expression,  and  even  when  his  doctrine  is  substan- 
tially correct.  Similar  observations  will  apply  to  what  Dr. 
Clarke  has  written,  in  reference  to  perception.  Neither  he 
nor  Newton,  had  devoted  sufficient  attention  to  that  subject, 
thoroughly  to  understand  it,  and  therefore  in  speaking  about 
it,  merely  indulged  themselves  in  the  current  style  of  the 
day.  Does  not  this  show,  that  if  Mr.  Locke  had  not  obtain- 
ed more  just  conceptions  on  these  points,  he  would  have  left 
his  opinion  equally  unambiguous? 

"  Dr.  Clarke,"  says  Dr.  Reid  in  his  letters  to  Leibnitz, 
has  the  following  passages — "  Without  being  present  to  the 
images  of  the  things  perceived,  it  (the  soul)  could  not  possi- 
bly perceive  them.  A  living  substance  can  only  there  per- 
ceive where  it  is  present,  either  to  the  things  themselves, 
fas  the  omnipresent  God  is  to  the  whole  universe,)  or  to  the 
images  of  things,  as  the  soul  of  man  is  in  its  proper  sensory." 
"  Nothing  can  any  more  act  or  be  acted  upon,  where  it  is 
not  present,  than  it  can  be  where  it  is  not.  We  are  sure  the 
soul  cannot  perceive  what  it  is  not  present  to,  because  no- 
thing can  act  or  be  acted  upon  where  it  is  not."  This  is  un- 
equivocally maintaining  the  ideal  theory,  in  its  full  extent,  as 
was  done  by  the  schoolmen;  and  if  Mr.  Locke  and  the  phi- 
losophers had  spoken  in  this  way,  there  could  have  been  no 
controversy  as  to  their  opinion.  If  Dr.  Reid  were  not  in 
the  habit,  in  order  to  save  himself  the  trouble  of  discrimina- 
ting the  opinions  of  philosophers  from  each  other,  of  con- 
founding them  all  together,  and  rendering  the  whole  order 
responsible  for  the  errors  and  fallacies  of  each  one,  he  need 


opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception.         20 i 

not  have  taken  the  pains  of  answering  Dr.  Clarke's  argument 
on  this  point.  That  nothing  can  either  act  or  perceive  where 
it  is  not,  is  a  self-evident  proposition,  but  what  metaphysi- 
cians who  have  studied  the  subject,  ever  maintained  that  the 
mind  could  not  perceive  an  object  to  which  it  was  not  im- 
mediately present,  except  in  the  cases  that  have  been  before 
mentioned?  No  such  doctrine  is  known  to  Aristotle,  Des 
Cartes  or  Locke.  All  that  these  philosophers  hold,  is,  that 
the  soul  is  united  to  the  organs  of  the  body,  and  that  to  the 
action  produced  in  those  organs  by  the  several  media  of  out- 
ward objects,  a  perception  of  these  objects  is  annexed. 
While  Dr.  Reid,  however,  in  order  to  give  colour  to  his 
charge  against  the  metaphysicians,  mentions  the  opinions 
and  quotes  the  language  of  Dr.  Clarke,  in  his  letters  to  Leib- 
nitz, how  happens  it  that  he  has  neglected  to  furnish  us  with 
the  reply  of  Leibnitz?  The  last  mentioned  writer  in  his  an- 
swer to  Clarke,  has  the  following  expressions.  Je  ne  demeure 
point  d'accord  des  notions  vulgaires,  comme  si  les  images  des 
choses  etoient  transportees  par  les  organes,  jusqu'  a  I'ame 
Car  il  n'est  point  concevable  par  quelque  ouverture,  ou  par 
quelle  voiture,  ce  transport  des  images  depuis  I'organe  jus- 
que  dans  Tame  se  peut  faire.  Cette  notion  de  la  philosophic 
vulgaire,  n'est  point  intelligible:  comme  les  nouveaux  Car- 
tesiens  Tout  assez  montre.  L'on  ne  sauroit  expliquer  com- 
ment la  substance  immaterielle  est  affectce  par  la  matiere:  et 
soutenir  une  chose  non  intelligible  la  dessus,  c'est  recourir  a 
la  notion  scholastique  chemerique  de  je  ne  sai  quelles 
especes  intentionelles,  inexplicables,  qui  passent  des  organes 
dans  I'ame.  Ces  Cartesiens  ont  vu  la  difficulte,  mais  ils  ne 
I'ont  point  resolue;  ils  ont  eu  recours  a  un  concours  de  Dieu 
qui  seroit  miraculeux  en  effet.  Mais  je  crois  d'avoir  donne 
la  veritable  solution  de  cette  Enigme.  Whatever  we  may 
think  of  the  system  of  Liebnitz,  of  which  he  here  expresses 
so  favourable  an  opinion  himself,  it  cannot  but  be  perceived 
that  there  were  philosophers  before  the  rise  of  the  Scottish. 

c  c 


202         Opinions  of  Philosophers  about  Perception. 

school  of  metaphysics,  who  thought  it  idle  to  attempt  to  ex- 
plam,  how  an  immaterial  substance  can  be  affected  by  mat- 
ter, or  perception  is  occasioned,  and  who  considered  the  doc- 
trine of  sensible  species  as  unintelligible  and  absurd. 


CHAPTER  V. 


The  Theoa^y  of  Bishop  Berkeley. 

Bishop  Berkeley  has  rendered  himself  celebrated  by  en- 
deavouring to  disprove  the  existence  of  an  external  world. 
Pursuing  an  opposite  course  from  that  of  Don  Quixotte,  who 
converted  his  fantasies  into  realities,  he  would  reduce  every 
object  of  real  nature,  the  sun,  moon,  stars,  &c.   to  a  mere 
collection  of  ideas  or  unreal  images.     The  world   has  cer- 
tainly been  disposed  to  receive  with  great  good  humour,  and 
treated  with  extraordinary  lenity,  this  attempt  of  the  Bishop 
"to  overturn  the   evidence  of  the   senses,   and   deprive    it  of 
every  object  which  seems    most   dear  to  it.     Whether  this 
effect  has  resulted  from   respect  for  the  character  of  an  au- 
thor, who  was   said  by  the   poet,   to  have   possessed   every 
virtue  under  Heaven,  or  from  a  willingness  to  witness  a  dis- 
play of  ingenuity  and  sophistry,  on  a  subject,  not  likel)  in  its 
consequences  to  prove   injurious  to   anv   one,  I  cannot   pre- 
tend to  say;  but  certain  it  is,  that  attempts  of  this  nature  are 
more  calculated  than  any  other  kind  of  disquisition,  to  bring 
the  science  of  metaphysics,  one  of  the  most  noble  and  useful 
that  can   be   cultivated,  into  utter  disrepute   and    contempt 
with  the  sober  and  reflecting  part  of  mankind.  "  There  is  no 
subject,"  says  Fontenelle,  "  on  which  men  ever  come  to  form 
a  reasonable  opinion,  until  they  have  once  exhausted  all  the 
absurd  views  which  it   is  possible  to  take  of  it.     What   fol- 
lies, he  continues,  should  we  not  be  repeating  at  this  day,  if 
we  had  not  been   anticipated  in  so  many  of  them  by  the  an- 
cient philosophers!     In  addition  to  the  sentiment  of  Fonte- 
nelle, that  whenever  any  subject  has  been  brought  into  dis- 


204  The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley. 

cussion  among  philosophers,  the  true  doctrine  has  been  in- 
variably attended  by  every  folly  and  absurdity,  which  could 
be  conceived;  it  may  be  remarked,  that  the  generations  of 
men,  instead  of  improving  upon  the  lessons  taught  them  by 
their  predecessors,  have  ever  been  ready  to  travel  the  same 
round  of  follies  and  absurdities  with  them.  Not  a  system  of 
philosophy  has  been  broached  in  modern  times,  that  had  not 
its  archetype  in  the  ancient  world.  Pyrrho  and  his  disciples 
are  said  to  have  been  so  firmly  convinced,  that  every  object 
of  sense  was  mere  fantasy,  and  that  the  whole  order  of  the 
exterior  world  was  mere  scenic  representation  and  delu- 
sions of  the  senses,  that  they  would  not  turn  out  of  the  way 
to  avoid  a  carriage,  and  to  keep  themselves  from  falling  down 
a  precipice.  In  this  wise  fraternity  we  discern  the  proto- 
types of  Berkeley,  Hume,  and  their  followers,  if  they  ever 
had  any.  It  is  impossible  to  believe  that  Berkeley,  could 
have  embraced  in  good  faith  and  sincerity,  a  doctrine  so  pal- 
pably and  preposterously  absurd.  Mr.  Hume  evidently 
sports  himself  with  the  indulgence  of  sceptical  doubts,  or  if 
he  is  ever  serious,  it  is  with  the  express  purpose  of  unset- 
tling the  foundations  of  all  truth  and  certainty. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  Mr.  Hume  for  attempting 
to  prove,  that  there  is  neither  matter  nor  mind  in  the  uni- 
verse, it  must  be  allowed  to  have  been  a  noble  undertaking 
for  a  Bishop,  to  overturn  the  evidence  of  the  senses.  A  peo- 
ple who  could  be  so  sceptical  as  to  disbelieve  the  existence 
of  an  exterior  world,  would  find  such  a  state  of  mind,  a  rare 
preparation  for  a  reception  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity, 
It  is  curious  to  see  how  the  Bishop  endeavours  to  invalidate 
the  force  of  the  charge  of  scepticism,  which  he  saw  likely  to 
be  alleged  against  him.  In  this  subterfuge,  we  see  a  speci- 
men of  that  subtilty  and  power  of  making  the  worse  appear 
the  better  reason,  which  we  think,  besides  great  neatness  and 
force  of  expression  and  perspicuity  of  style,  is  the  only  thing 
remarkable  in  the  essay.  While  we  make  this  concession,  how- 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  205 

ever,  in  favour  of  the  talents  of  the  Bishop,  we  cannot  but 
be  so  faithful  to  our  own  sentiments  as  to  declare,  that  we 
have  never  been  able  to  read  his  pieces  through,  without  a 
painful  effort  and  much  impatience,  and  that  we  always  felt 
much  less  disposed  to  lenity  and  indulgence,  in  our  strictures 
upon  those  performances,  than  the  literary  public  appear  ge- 
nerally to  have  been.  He  may  impose  upon  the  ignorant 
and  undiscerriing,  but  to  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the 
science  of  mind,  the  veil  of  his  sophistry  is  too  thin  to  con- 
ceal the  fallacies  which  he  strives  to  pahn  upon  his  readers. 
In  his  dialogue  entitled  Hylas  and  Philonous,  which  is  his  , 
best  treatise  upon  the  subject,  where  he  puts  forth  all  his 
strength,  Hylas,  who  is  the  advocate  of  an  exterior  world,  is 
a  mere  man  of  straw,  set  up  to  be  knocked  down  at  pleasure, 
or  at  least  is  too  complaisant  an  antagonist,  to  press  his  ar- 
gument with  much  force  or  vehemence  against  his  compa- 
nion. See,  in  the  beginning,  how  the  Bishop  vindicates  his 
doctrine  against  the  allegation  of  scepticism.  Philonous  de- 
lines  a  "  sceptic  to  be  a  man  who  doubts  of  every  thing.  One 
who  firmly  believes,  therefore,  that  there  is  no  exterior  world, 
cannot  be  called  a  sceptic." 

It  must  be  admitted  that  this  is  an  admirable  definition, 
and  a  still  more  admirable  argument.  According  to  this 
reasoning,  a  man  who  firmly  believes  that  there  is  no  God, 
but  that  the  universe  was  formed  by  a  fortuitous  concourse 
of  atoms  or  existed  from  eternity,  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  a  soul  in  man  distinct  from  his  material  organization,  and 
that,  at  death,  there  is  an  utter  extinction  of  being,  as  well 
as  a  dissolution  of  the  body,  is  no  sceptic;  because  he  has 
formed  decided  opinions  on  these  points,  and  is  not  per- 
plexed with  doubts.  Is  it  possible  that  Bishop  Berkeley 
did  not  foresee  inferences  of  this  kind,  and  that  they  were  un- 
answerable? Throughout  the  whole  of  his  treatise  on  this 
subject,  I  cannot  but  think  that,  so  far  from  discovering  any 
of  that  candour  and  love  of  the  truth,  for  its  own  sake,  which 


206  The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley, 

is  the  genuine  spirit  of  philosophy,  I  perceive  a  settled  deter- 
mination to  attain  celebrity  by  broaching  and  maintaining 
with  ingenuity,  new  and  strange  opinions,  and  by  varnishing 
over  absurdities  with  the  gloss  of  sophistry. 

"  But  however  absurd  this  doctrine  might  appear,"  says 
Dr.  Reid,''  to  the  unlearned,  who  consider  the  existence  of  the 
objects  of  sense  as  the  most  evident  of  all  truths,  and  what 
no  man  in  his  senses  can  doubt;  the  philosophers  who  had 
been  accustomed  to  consider  ideas  as  the  immediate  objects 
of  all  thought,  had  no  title  to  view  this  doctrine  of  Berkeley 
in  so  unfavourable  a  light."  In  the  truth  of  this  opinion,  we 
cannot  concur.  All  the  best  philosophers  had  agreed  in  the 
belief,  although  upon  different  grounds,  of  the  existence  of 
outward  objects;  and  those  among  the  ancients  who  pretend- 
ed to  doubt  their  reality,  only  exposed  themselves  to  ridicule, 
and  their  doctrine  to  contempt.  Aristotle,  the  first  among 
them,  was  too  serious  an  inquirer  into  nature,  and  too  pro- 
found a  thinker  to  establish  any  principles,  which  could  lead 
to  such  a  frivolous  and  absurd  conclusion.  In  the  case  of 
Des  Cartes  and  the  Cartesians,  perhaps  it  was  naturally  to  be 
exp'ected  that  when  they  ceased  to  dogmatise  with  the  schools, 
and  to  receive  every  thing  without  proof,  they  should  pass 
into  the  opposite  extreme,  and  require  demonstration  for  too 
much,  even  for  those  things,  which  ought  to  be  receivtd  up- 
on the  authority  of  nature,  without  expecting  to  have  them 
deduced  from  the  principles  of  philosophy.  As  Aristotle 
remarks,  there  must  be  some  principles  taken  for  granted  in 
every  science,  otherwise  we  must  suppose  the  human  mind 
to  be  capable  of  an  indefinite  advancement  in  its  progress  to- 
wards ascertaining  the  grounds  of  knowledge;  and  surely  no 
part  of  our  knowledge  appears  to  have  a  more  just  title  to  be 
received  upon  trust,  than  that  which  flows  to  us  through  the 
channels  of  sense.  Des  Cartes,  however,  chose  to  simplify 
his  philosophy  still  more,  and  commencing  with  the  single 
assumption,  cogito,  ergo  sum,  upon  this  as  a  foundation  te* 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley .  aoy 

erect  the  superstructure  of  Kis  system.  In  doing  this, 
although  by  a  process  so  simple,  he  relieved  himself  at 
once  from  the  dogmas  of  the  schools;  he  pushed  his  princi- 
ples to  excess,  as  there  are  many  other  propositions  whose 
truth  as  irresistibly  flashes  upon  the  mind,  and  of  which  no 
good  proof  can  be  given  by  reason  as  this  celebrated  maxim. 
It  is  to  be  expected,  therefore,  as  we  really  find  to  be  the 
case,  that  every  argument  he  has  given  in  demonstration  of 
the  existence  of  an  external  world,  only  tends  to  prove  that 
we  should  repose  confidence  in  the  testimony  of  the  senses. 
In  the  beginning  of  his  second  part  of  the  Principia  Philoso- 
phise, he  thus  expresses  himself.  Etsi  nemo  non  sibi  satis  per- 
suadeat  res  materiales  existere,  quia  tamen  hoc  a  nobis  paulo 
ante  in  dubium  revocatum  est,  et  inter  primse  nostrae  setatis 
prsejudicia  numeratum,  nunc  opus  est,  ut  rationes  investige- 
mus,  per  quas  id  certo  cognoscatur.  Nempe  quicquid  sen- 
timus,  proculdubio  nobis  advenit  a  re  aliqiia,  quse  a  mente 
nostra  diversa  est.  Neque  enim  est  in  nostra  potestate  effi- 
cere,  ut  unum  potius  quam  aliud  sentiamus;  sed  hoc  a  re 
ilia  quse  sensus  nostros  afl&cit,  plane  pendet.  Qugeri  quidem 
potest  an  res  ilia  sit  Deus,  an  quid  a  Deo  diversum?  Sed 
quia  sentimus,  sive  potuis  a  sensu  impulsi  dare  et  distincte 
percipimus  materiam  quandam  extensam  in  longum,  latum 
et  profundum,  cujus  varise  partes  variis  figuris  prgeditee  sunt, 
ac  variis  motibus  cientur;  ac  etiam  efficiunt  ut  varies  sensus 
habeamus  colorum,  odorum,  doloris,  &c.  Si  Deus  immedi- 
ate per  se  ipsum  istius  materise  extensse  ideam  menti  nostrae 
exhiberet,  vel  tantum  si  efficeret,  ut  exhiberetur  a  re  aliqua, 
in  qua  nihil  esset  extensionis,nec  figurse,  nee  motus;  nulla  ratio 
potest  excogitari  cur  non  deceptor  esset  putandus.  Ipsam 
enim  dare  intelligimus  tanquam  rem  a  Deo,  et  a  nobis  sive 
a  mente  nostra  plane  diversani;  ac  etiam  dare  yidere  nobis 
videmur,  ejus  ideam  a  rebus  extra  nos  positis,  quibus  om- 
nino  similis  est,  advenire;  Dei  autem  naturae  plane  repug- 
nare  ut  sit  deceptor,  jam  ante  est  animadversum.     Atque 


208  The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeleij, 

ideo  hie  omnino  concludendum  est,  rem  quandam  extensani, 
in  longum,  latum  et  profundum,  omnesque  illas  proprietates 
qnas  rei  extensse  convenire  clare  percipimus  habentem,  ex- 
istere.  Estque  hfec  res  extensa,  quam  corpus  sive  materiam 
appellamus.  I  have  introduced  this  paragraph  with  a  double 
view.  In  the  first  place,  it  explains  to  us  in  what  Des  Car- 
tes supposed  the  difficulty  about  our  proof  of  an  exterior 
world  to  consist;  and  in  the  next  place,  what  he  imagined 
would  remove  that  difficulty.  As  to  the  first  it  is  evident, 
instead  of  the  difficulty  in  the  proof  of  an  exterior  world 
consisting,  as  Dr.  Reid  maintains,  in  our  perceiving  only 
the  idcfa  or  image  of  the  outward  object,  and  having  no  rea- 
son from  thence  to  infer  its  real  existence,  that  he  makes  it 
to  consist,  in  our  being  unable  to  infer  the  existence  of  any 
object  from  our  perception  of  it:  for  although,  says  he,  it  be 
evident  wlun  we  perceive  any  object,  that  our  perception 
must  be  occasioned  by  something  distinct  from  ourselves; 
yet  how  do  we  know  whether  thr»t  be  God  or  a  substance,  ex- 
tended in  length,  breadth  and  depth,  as  matter  appears  to  be? 
The  only  way  in  which  he  thought  himself  able  to  remove 
this  difficulty,  was  by  asserting  that  God  could  be  no  deceiver, 
and  that  he  Vrould  not  perpetually  delude  us  with  unreal  vi- 
sions. It  appears,  therefore,  that  Des  Cartes,  as  much  dis- 
posed as  he  was,  to  demand  proof  of  every  thing,  was  no 
sceptic,  and  found  sufficient  reasons  for  giving  credit  to  the 
testimony  of  his  senses.  He  might,  of  consequence,  have 
justly  complained  of  the  perversion  of  his  principles  by 
Berkeley.  Mallebranche  undoubtedly  had  less  cause  of 
complaint,  since  he  not  only  rested  the  belief  in  an  external 
world,  upon  insufficient  and  false  grounds,  maintaining  that 
we  could  be  assured  of  it  only  from  revelation;  but  his  chi- 
merical doctrine  of  seeing  all  things  in  God,  went  directly 
and  unavoidably  to  its  utter  exclusion-  Whatever,  however, 
might  be  said  by  the  other  philosophers,  the  injustice  and 
inaccuracy  of  the  observation  made  of  them  by  Dr.  Reid, 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  209 

that  they  had  no  right  to  complain  of  the  attempt  made  by 
Berkeley,  when  applied  to  Mr.  Locke,  are  glaringly  exhibit- 
ed. Mr.  Locke  has  not  only  given  the  hint  to  Bishop  Berke- 
ley, of  the  plan  which  he  pursued,  but  has  sketched  the  cha- 
racter of  any  one  who  should  attempt  to  execute  it,  in  co- 
lours by  no  means  flattering.  In  ch.  2,  book  4.  he  says, 
"  There  can  be  nothing  more  certain  than  that  the  idea  we 
receive  from  an  external  object,  is  in  our  minds.  This  is 
intuitive  knowledge.  But  whether  there  be  any  thing  more 
than  barely  that  idea  in  our  minds,  whether  we  can  thence 
Certainly  infer  the  existence  of  any  thing  without  us,  which 
corresponds  to  that  idea,  is  that,  whereof  some  men  think 
there  may  be  a  question  made;  because  men  may  have  such 
ideas  in  their  minds,  when  no  such  thing  exists,  no  such  ob- 
ject affects  their  senses.  But  here,  I  think  we  are  provided 
with  an  evidence,  that  puts  us  past  doubting.  For  I  ask  any 
.  one,  whether  he  be  not  invincibly  conscious  to  himself  of  a 
different  perception,  when  he  looks  on  the  sun  by  day,  and 
thinks  on  it  by  night;  when  he  actually  tastes  wormwood  or 
smells  arose,  or  only  thinks  on  that  savour  or  odour?  We  as 
plainly  find  the  difference  there  is  between  any  idea  revived 
in  our  minds  by  our  own  memory,  and  actually  coming  into 
our  minds  by  our  senses,  as  we  do  between  any  two  distinct 
ideas.  If  any  one  say,  a  dream  may  do  the  same  thing,  and 
all  these  ideas  may  be  produced  in  us,  without  any  external 
objects,  he  may  please  to  dream  that  I  make  him  this  an- 
swer. 1st.  That  it  is  no  great  matter,  whether  I  remove 
his  scruple  or  no.  Where  all  is  but  dream,  reasoning  and 
arguments  are  of  no  use;  truth  and  knowledge  nothing, 
2d.  That  I  believe  he  will  allow  a  very  manifest  diff"erence 
between  dreaming  of  being  in  the  fire,  and  being  actually  in 
it."  Again  in  the  same  book,  ch.  11.  "  For  I  think  nobody 
can  in  earnest  be  so  sceptical,  as  to  be  uncertain  of  the  exist- 
ence of  those  things  which  he  sees  and  feels.  At  least,  he 
that  can  doubt  so  far,  whatever  he  may  have   with  his  own 

1.)  d 


210  The  Theory  of  Bis  hop  Berkeley, 

thoughts,  will  never  have  any  controvers\'  with  me,  since  ht 
can  never  be  sure  that  I  say  any  thinjj;  contrary  to  his  opinion." 
We  see,  therefore,  that  Mr,  Locke  pointed  out  to  Berke- 
lev,  what  might  be  attempted  on  this  subject;  but  at  the  same 
time  certainly  gave  him  no  great  encouragement  to  the  un- 
dertaking, by  telling  him  in  very  unambiguous  terms,  that 
he  should  consider  the  person  who  engaged  in  it  as  insane.* 
There  is  a  point  in  this  statement  of  Mr.  Locke,  as  well 
as  in  that  of  Des  Cartes  before  quoted,  which  is  worthy  of 
particular  remark,  as  it  relates  to  the  very  hinge  upon  which 
the  controversy  with  the  immaterialists  turns.  Dr  Reid 
asserts,  that  since  all  the  philosophers  admitted  that  our 
ideas  of  outward  objects  are  the  images  or  representatives 
of  them,  and  which  are  the  only  immediate  objects  of  per- 
ception, Berkeley  had  good  ground  to  infer,  since  the  image 
alone  is  perceived,  that  alone  has  a  real  existence.  This  he 
considers  as  an  unavoidable  inference  from  the  acknowledg- 
ed principles  of  the  ideal  philosophy.  Now  a  moment's  ex- 
amination of  what  Locke  and  Des  Cartes  have  just  alleged 
on  this  subject  will  convince  any  one,  that  these  two  authors 
did  not  consider  this  as  the  great  difficulty.  The  ground  of 
Berkeley's  scepticism  lies  much  deeper  than  that  which  is 
assigned  to  it  by  Dr.  Reid.  If  the  doctrine  were  held,  that 
our  ideas  are  images  in  the  mind,  the  only  immediate  ob- 
jects of  perception,  it  is  true  that  men  might  say  there  is  no 
necessity  fo'  the  existence  of  the  objects,  since  God  by  cer- 
tain laws  might  produce  them  in  our  mind;  but  the  difficultj- 

*  The  Count  de  Buffon  very  well  expresses  the  difficult}'  in  his  Natural 
History,  where  speaking-  of  man,  he  says — "  As  the  mind,  during-  sleep,  is 
affected  with  sensations  which  are  often  different  from  those  excited  by 
the  actual  presence  of  the  objects,  is  it  not  natural  to  think,  that  the  pre- 
sence of  objects  is  not  necessary  to  the  existence  of  pur  sensations;  and 
consequently,  that  both  mind  and  body  may  exist  independent  of  these  ob- 
jects?" This  is  the  wliole  difficulty,  and  as  the  Count  had  no  hypothesis  to 
serve,  he  has  slated  it  naturally  and  truly. 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  211 

is  not  removed  or  lessened  by  rejecting  the  doctrine  of  ima- 
ges. The  phenomenon  of  perception  remains  still  to  be  ex- 
plained; and  whatever  theory  be  adopted  in  explaining  it,  it 
may  always  be  maintained  by  those  who  are  determined  to 
be  scepticks,  that  all  our  perceptions  and  thoughts  about 
outward  objects  might  be  occasioned  by  certain  laws  esta- 
blished by  the  Creator,  without  admitting  the  existence  of  a 
single  object  in  nature.  The  very  substance  and  pith  of 
the  argument  of  Berkeley  and  Hume,  as  far  as  any  thing 
like  argument  is  interspersed  with  that  tissue  of  sophistry, 
by  which  they  have  endeavoured  to  trifle  with  the  under- 
standings of  their  readers,  is  this.  It  is  admitted,  that  our 
perceptions  of  outward  objects  are  occasioned  by  some  ac- 
tion of  the  several  media  of  bodies  upon  the  several  organs 
of  sensation.  Now  there  is  no  necessary  connection  in  rea- 
son and  nature  between  those  perceptions,  and  the  existence 
of  those  objects;  as  we  know  it  not  unfrequently  happens, 
that  objects  appear  to  be  present  to  the  senses  when  dis- 
ordered, when  we  know  they  are  not.  You  have  no  good 
reason  to  conclude  from  the  existence  of  the  perceptions  in 
the  mind,  that  any  such  objects  as  seem  to  be  presented  to 
it,  really  and  truly  exist.  This  will  be  found  to  have  been 
the  difficulty  which  presented  itself  to  Des  Cartes,  and 
Locke,  and  it  is  a  difficulty  which  the  system  of  Dr.  Reid 
has  no  more  tendency  to  remove  than  that  which  had  been 
maintained  by  his  predecessors.  Of  these  things,  however, 
we  shall  treat  more  fully  in  their  proper  place. 

It  is  curious  to  see  Bishop  Berkeley  on  the  one  hand, 
enumerating  the  many  advantages,  which  would  result  to 
science  and  religion,  from  the  exclusion  of  matter;  and  Dr, 
Priestley  on  the  other,  descanting  upon  those  which  would 
result  from  the  exclusion  of  mind.  By  the  one  we  are  told, 
that  by  denying  the  existence  of  a  material  world,  we  re- 
move the  corner  stone  of  modern  scepticism,  and  banish 
many  useless  and  impious  speculations  in "  philosophy;  such 


212  The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley. 

as  whether  corporeal  substances  can  think,  whether  matter 
be  infinitely  divisil)lc,  how  it  operates  on  spirit,  how  matter 
could  be  produced  out  of  nothing,  how  the  same  body  could 
rise  in  a  future  state,  &c.;  the  latter,  thinks  that  a  great  ad- 
vantage attending  the  system  of  materialism,  is,  that  we 
hereby  get  rid  of  a  great  number  of  difficulties,  which  ex- 
ceedingly clog  and  embarrass  the  opposite  system;  such,  for 
instance,  as  these,  what  becomes  of  the  soul  during  sleep,  in 
a  swoon,  when  the  body  is  seemingly  dead,  (as  by  drowning 
or  other  accidents,)  and  especially  after  death;  also,  what 
was  the  condition  of  it,  before  it  became  united  to  the  body, 
and  at  what  time  did  that  union  take  place,  &c."  Medio 
tutissimus  ibis.  If  this  be  an  argument  in  favour  of 
either  system,  Mr.  Hume's  should  be  j)referred  to  both; 
since  at  a  single  blow  he  annihilates  both  matter  and  mind, 
and  leaves  nothing  in  the  universe,  about  which  philosophers 
can  contend. 

Dr.  Reid  informs  us,  that  he  was  once  a  disciple  of  Berke- 
ley, and  firmly  believed  that  there  was  no  external  world; 
and  we  can  readily  believe  him  in  this  particular,  because 
we  think  we  can  discover,  that  in  spite  of  his  eflforts  to  re- 
lease himself  from  it,  his  fondness  for  his  first  system  of 
philosophy  still  adheres  to  him,  as  may  be  discovered  in  the 
account  w'hich  he  gives  of  cause  and  effect,  in  which  matter 
is  entirely  excluded,  and  in  the  effort  which  he  makes  in  the 
following  part  of  his  work,  to  enlist  Mr.  Locke  in  the  num- 
ber of  those,  who  would  willingly  have  embraced  that  doc- 
trine. "  There  is,  indeed,  a  single  passage  in  Mr.  Locke's 
essay,  which  may  lead  one  to  conjecture,  that  he  had  a 
glimpse  of  that  system,  which  Berkeley  afterwards  advan- 
ced." After  the  full  statement  of  that  doctrine  given  by  Mr. 
Locke,  in  the  passages  we  have  extracted  from  him,  could 
W2  imagine  that  Dr.  Reid  had  carefully  read  his  treatise, 
when  he  talks  of  a  single  passage,  in  which  he  seems  to  have 
had  a  glimpse  only  of  Berkeley's  system?  This  is  to  us  very 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  213 

extraordinary.  He  proceeds — "  The  passage  is  in  book  4, 
chap.  10 — where  having  proved  the  existence  of  an  intelli- 
gent mind,  he  comes  to  answer  those,  who  conceive  that 
matter  also  must  be  eternal;  because  we  cannot  conceive  how 
it  could  be  made  out  of  nothing."  And  having  observed,  that 
the  creation  of  minds  requires  no  less  power  than  the  crea- 
tion of  matter,  he  adds  what  follows.  "  Nay,  possibl)'^,  if  we 
could  emancipate  ourselves  from  vulgar  notions,  and  raise 
our  thoughts,  as  far  as  they  would  reach,  to  a  closer  con- 
templation of  things,  we  might  be  able  to  aim  at  some  dim 
and  seeming  conception,  how  matter  might  at  first  be  made, 
and  begin  to  exist  by  the  power  of  that  eternal  first  Being; 
but  to  give  beginning  and  being  to  a  spirit,  would  be  found 
a  more  inconceivable  effect  of  omnipotent  power.  But  this 
being  what  would  perhaps  lead  us  too  far  from  the  notions, 
on  which  the  philosophy  now  in  the  world  is  built,  it  would 
not  be  pardonable  to  deviate  so  far  from  them,  or  to  inquire, 
so  far  as  grammar  itself  would  authorise,  if  the  common 
settled  opinion  opposes  it;  especially  in  this  place,  where  the 
received  doctrine  serves  well  enough  to  our  present  pur- 
pose." So,  then,  according  to  Dr.  Reid,  the  highest  con- 
ception concerning  the  formation  of  matter  out  of  nothing, 
to  which  JMr.  Locke  could  attain  by  the  sublimest  flights  of 
philosophy,  was  to  discover  that  it  was  not  created  at  all. 
This  might  be  called  an  Irish  bull  in  any  one  who  was  not 
a  philosopher.  The  hermit  of  Prague,  alluded  to  by  Bishop 
Warburton,  is  said  after  much  toil  of  the  brain,  to  have  dis- 
covered by  mere  dint  of  human  penetration,  without  any  kind 
of  aid  from  supernatural  illumination,  that  whatever  is,  is; 
but  Dr.  Reid  would  have  Mr.  Locke  greatly  outstrip  this 
celebrated  ecclesiastic  in  his  discoveries,  as  he  has  found,  it 
is  presumed  without  any  extraordinary  lights  also,  that  that 
which  was  created,  was  not  created  at  all.*     Let  it  not  be 

*  Says  Teague  to  Patrick  O'FlaJiagan.  by  St.  Patrick,  but  I've  found 
out  by  hard  study  and  turmoil  of  tlie  brain,  how  matter  might  originally 


214  'I'/it   Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley. 

neglected  also  to  be  remarked,  that  this  scheme,  which  Mr. 
Locke  is  here  said  to  represent  as  the  highest  attainment  of 
philosophy,  is  one  of  which  in  other  parts  of  his  works,  he 
speaks  in  terms  of  the  greatest  disparagement  and  con- 
tempt.* 

I  shall  now  proceed  to  give  as  succinct  and  accurate 
an  account  as  possible,  of  the  argument  of  the  Bishop  in 
favour  of  his  system.  He  begins  thus — "  It  is  evident  to  any 

have  been  formed,  aad  that  is  more  than  you  can  boast  of,  honey.  "  And 
how  is  that,  my  dear,"  replied  Patrick;  "  why  by  my  shoul,"  said  Teague, 
*'  and  it  is  a  great  secret,  but  to  you  I  may  reveal  it;  why,  and  to  be  sure, 
it  was  not  created  at  all." 

*  Philosophers  are  much  too  apt  to  undervalue  the  works  of  each  other, 
and  to  misconceive  the  views  of  one  another,  for  the  want  of  that  close  at- 
tention of  mind,  necessary  to  enter  fully  into  them.  How,  except  from  this 
circumstance,  shall  we  account  for  the  following  observalions  of  Dr. 
Clarke,  concerning  Mr.  Locke's  opinion  upon  the  same  point.  In  his  an- 
swer to  the  first  letter  of  Leibnitz,  he  says,  "that  Mr.  Locke  doubted 
whether  the  soul  was  immaterial  or  no,  may  justly  be  suspected  from  some 
parts  of  his  writings.  But  herein  he  has  been  followed  only  by  some  ma- 
terialists, who  appear  to  approve  little  or  nothing  in  Mr.  Locke's  writings, 
but  his  errors."  We  here  find  Dr.  Reid  suggesting,  that  in  this  part  of  his 
works,  Mr.  Locke  discovers  a  tendency  to  the  immaterialism  of  bishop 
Berkeley.  Now  it  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  so  clear  an  understanding  as 
Mr.  Locke's,  could  in  the  same  work  have  aimed  at  two  directly  opposite 
doctrines.  For  Dr.  Clarke's  assertion  about  the  opinion  of  Mr-  Locke,  in 
reference  to  the  immateriality  of  the  soul,  there  is  ground  afforded  in  his 
answer  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester,  wlio  objected  to  that  part  of  his  work, 
in  which  he  maintains,  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  decide,  that  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  omnipotence  to  make  matter  think;  but  for  the  conjecture  of  Dr. 
Reid,  there  is  not  the  shadow  of  evidence.  Mr.  Locke  as  distinctly  main- 
tains the  immateriality  of  the  soul  and  the  materiality  of  body,  as  it  is 
possible  for  any  writer  to  do.  His  works  could  not  be  so  misunderstood, 
except  by  considering  them  in  detached  parts,  and  neglecting  to  take  the 
wboh-  in  cormection,  by  which  method  of  procedure,  we  may  make  an 
author  maintain  any  doctrine  which  we  choose  to  ascribe  to  him.  Collins 
formed  more  just  conceptions  of  this  matter,  than  Dr.  Reid,  when  he  re- 
proved his  friend  Mr.  Locke  for  supposing  that  we  might  form  even  "  a 
dim  conception"  of  the  manner,  in  which  matter  was  created- 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  215 

one,  who  takes  a  survey  of  the  objects  of  human  knowledge, 
that  they  are  either  ideas  actually  imprinted  on  the  senses, 
or  else  such  as  are  perceived  by  attending  to  the  passions 
and  operations  of  the  mind;  or  lastly,  ideas  formed  by  help 
of  memory  and  imagination,  either  compounding,  dividing, 
or  barely  representing  those  originally  perceived  in  the 
aforesaid  ways."  Thus  he  commences  with  a  palpable  fal- 
lacy, that  is  as  much  opposed  to  his  own  doctrine,  as  to  that 
of  those  whom  he  denominates  materialists,  for  their  credu- 
lity in  believing  in  the  existence  of  an  exterior  world. 
What  philosophers  ever  maintained,  that  all  the  objects  of 
human  knowledge  consist  of  ideas?  If  this  were  true,  not 
only  would  matter  be  excluded  from  the  universe,  but  mind 
also;  and  we  should  be  plunged,  at  once,  into  the  chaos  of 
Mr.  Hume's  ideas,  and  from  thence  by  an  unavoidable  tran- 
sition into  atheism.  For  if,  as  the  Bishop  says,  all  the  ob- 
jects of  our  knowledge  in  reference  to  an  exterior  world, 
consist  of  ideas  imprinted  on  the  senses;  or  to  speak  in  more 
clear  and  intelligible  terms,  all  the  objects  of  an  external 
world  consist  only  of  those  perceptions  conveyed  into  the 
mind  through  the  organs  of  sense,  of  course,  that  external 
world  is  a  phantom.  Again,  if  as  he  maintains  also,  all  the 
objects  of  our  knowledge  in  reference  to  the  internal  world, 
consist  of  those  ideas  which  are  perceived,  by  attending  to 
the  passions  and  operations  of  the  mind,  of  consequence,  the 
internal  world  or  mind,  as  far  as  substance  or  any  distinct 
subsistence  is  concerned,  perishes  also  by  just  inference,  and 
trains  of  unsubstantial  images  or  ideas,  are  all  that  survive 
this  wreck  of  nature.  Thus  the  Bishop,  in  the  very  com- 
mencement of  his  work,  is  guilty  of  the  crime  of  a  petitio 
principii,  by  assuming  the  proposition  as  true,  which  it  is 
the  object  of  all  his  treatise  to  prove;  and  at  the  same  time 
states  a  principle,  which  would  lead  to  the  subversion  of  his 
own  doctrine.  Fortunately,  however,  for  the  interests  of  truth 
and  mankind,  there  is  no  justness  or  force  in  his  maxim;  and 


216  The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley. 

fortunately  for  the  philosophers  who  had  preceded  him,  not 
one  of  them  had  justified  him  in  taking   such   a   proposition 
for  granted.  The  doctrine  of  philosophers  would  have  held 
him  out  in  asserting,  that  all  human  knowledge,  (not  the  ob- 
jects of  human  knowledge,)   consists  of  the  ideas  conveyed 
into  the  mind  through  the  senses,  or  those  which  we  derive 
from  reflecting  on   the  operations  of  our  minds;   or  lastly, 
those  which  are  formed  by  the  various  combinations  of  these, 
either  as  they  are  found  united  in  nature,  or  as  they  are  put 
together  by  the   mind   exercising  its  several  powers,  as   of 
composition,  abstraction,   comparison,  &c.     This  is  a  plain, 
unvarnished   statement  of  the   matterj   but  would  not  have 
suited  the  purpose  of  an  author,  who  chooses  to  show  his  in- 
tellectual skill  and  address,  by  involving  his  readers  in   a 
cloud  at  the  outset,  in   order  that  while  they  are   groping 
their  way  in  the  dark,  he  may  unwarily  conduct  them  tu  the 
point  at  which  he  is  aiming.     The    Bishop  proceeds — "  By 
sight,  I  have  the  ideas  of  light  and  colours,  with  their  sever- 
al degrees  and  variations;  by  touch,  I  perceive,  for  example, 
hard  and  soft,  heat  and  cold,  motion  and  resistance,  and  of 
all  these  more   or  less,   either  as   to   quantity  and   degree. 
Smelling  furnishes  me  with  odours,   the   palate   with  tastes, 
and  hearing  conveys  sounds  to  the  mind,  in  all  their  variety 
of  tone  and  composition.     And   as   several  of  these  are  ob- 
served to  accompany  each   other,   they  come  to  be  marked 
by  one  name,  and  to  be  reputed  as  one  thing.     Thus  for  ex- 
ample, a  certain  colour,  taste,  smell,  figure,  and  consistence, 
having  been  observed  to  go  together,  are  accounted  one  dis- 
tinct thing,  signified  by  the  name  apple.     Other  collections 
of  ideas  constitute   a   stone,   a  book,   and   the   like  sensible 
things."  Could  he  imagine  that  any  one  would  be  so  undis- 
cerning,  as  not  to  see  through   so  thin   a   web  of  fallacy  as 
this?     Our  complex  idea  of  a  stone,  an   apple,  a  book,  or 
any  other  sensible  thing,  constitutes  that  stone,  apple,  book, 
&c  !  This  is  the  very  thing  which  it  is  his  business  to  prove, 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  217 

and  yet  he  commences  with  it  as  triumphantly,  as  if  it  had 
been  universally  admitted.  We  denote  by  words,  indeed, 
our  complex  ideas  of  things,  but  what  has  that  process  to 
do  with  the  proof  of  their  existence?  Must  they  not 
exist  before  we  have  our  perceptions  of  their  qualities? 
And  yet  Berkeley,  according  to  Dr.  Reid,  proceeds  upon 
principles  recognised  and  admitted  in  the  philosophy  of 
Locke! 

The  Bishop  continues — "  The  table  I  write  on,  I  say  ex- . 
ists,  that  is  I  see  and  feel  it;  and  if  I  were  out  of  my  study, 
I  should  say  it  existed,  meaning  thereby  that  if  I  was  in  my 
study,  I  might  perceive  it,  or  some  other  spirit  actually  does 
perceive  it.  There  was  an  odour,  that  is,  it  was  smelledj 
there  was  a  sound,  that  is,  it  was  heard;  a  colour  and  figure, 
and  it  was  perceived  by  sight  and  touch.  This  is  all  that  I 
.can  understand  by  these  and  the  like  expressions.  For  as 
to  what  is  said  of  the  absolute  existence  of  unthinking  things 
without  any  relation  to  their  being  perceived,  that  seems 
perfectly  unintelligible.  Their  esse  is  percipi,  nor  is  it  pos- 
sible they  should  have  any  existence  out  of  the  mind  or 
thinking  things,  that  perceive  them."  Almost  every  person 
who  reads  this  passage,  and  has  the  slightest  knowledge  of 
metaphysics,  will  think,  that  the  Bishop's  perceptions  must 
either  have  been  very  dull,  or  very  peculiar  on  this  subject, 
or  he  could  not  have  failed  to  discern  a  wide  difference  be- 
tween the  esse,  and  the  percipi  in  these  cases.  The  table 
on  which  I  write  exists,  that  is,  I  perceive  it.  No  one  whose 
mind  is  not  sophisticated  by  subtilty,  could  be  misled  by  a 
fallacy  so  glaring.  Who  does  not  see  that  the  object  that 
exists  is  one  thing,  and  our  perceptions  of  its  properties  ano- 
ther? In  almost  half  that  the  Bishop  wrote  on  these  points, 
the  sophistry  will  be  perceptible  to  any  one,  who  only  carries 
along  with  him  the  distinction  made  by  Mr.  Locke  between 
the  secondary  and  primary  qualities  of  body;  the  first  of 
which  are  admitted  to  be  merely  sensations   in   our  minds, 

E  e 


218  The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley^ 

while  the  latter  exist  in  the  bodies  themselves,  whether  per- 
ceived by  us  or  not.  For  instance,  colour,  taste,  odours, 
sounds,  heat,  cold,  are  merely  perceptions  in  our  minds, 
and  exist  in  bodies  only,  as  Aristotle  says  in  their  causes,  or 
as  Mr.  Locke  maintains,  are  only  powers  in  the  bodies  to 
produce  those  sensations  in  us.  Take  a  single  example  by 
way  of  illustration.  We  approach  the  fire,  and  the  sensation 
of  heat  is  felt.  Now  no  one  will  assert,  that  the  sensation  of 
heat  is  in  the  firej  but  the  power  resides  in  the  fire  to  pro- 
duce that  sensation  in  us.  As  language,  however,  is  intend- 
ed merely  for  the  purposes  of  ordinary  intercourse,  and  not 
always  constructed  with  philosophical  accuracy,  we  give  the 
name  of  heat  also  to  the  quality  in  the  fire,  and  the  sensa- 
tion in  us.  Hence  we  say,  heat  is  in  fire  as  well  as  a  sensa- 
tion in  us.  The  vulgar  are  right  in  their  acceptation  of  the 
term,  for  when  they  say  that  the  fire  is  hot,  they  mean  that 
it  possesses  the  power  of  exciting  the  sensation  of  heat  in 
US;  and  when  they  say  that  they  are  themselves  hot,  they 
mean  that  they  feel  the  sensation  of  heat.  The  whole  mys- 
tery might  be  resolved,  and  philosophy  freed  from  the  charge 
of  having  a  fondness  for  paradox,  by  giving  a  name  at  once 
to  the  sensation  in  us,  that  of  heat,  and  to  that  quality  in  fire 
which  excites  it,  and  call  it  caloric.  When  we  approach  the 
fire,  caloric  or  a  quality  in  that  wonderful  principle,  excites 
in  us  the  sensation  of  heat.  Thus  the  darkness  and  obscu- 
rity attempted  to  be  thrown  around  the  subject  by  Bishop 
Berkeley,  when  he  maintains,  that  heat  or  any  of  the  other 
secondary  qualities  of  bodies,  for  the  same  observation  ap- 
plies to  tastes,  odours,  colours,  sounds,  are  merely  percep- 
tions or  ideas  in  us.  A  large  proportion  of  the  fallacies  of 
Bishop  Berkeley's  treatises,  will  be  detected  by  keeping  this 
distinction  continually  in  view.  Sounds,  odours,  tastes,  we 
admit  exist  only  in  the  mind  that  perceives,  but  their  causes 
exist  in  the  bodies  themselves. 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  219 

A  difficult  task,  however,  still  remained  to  the  Bishop,  to 
show  that  the  primary  as  well  as  secondary  qualities  of  bo- 
dy, exist  only  in  the  mind  that  perceives  them.     Let  us  see 
with  what  subtilty  he  twists  and  turns  this  point,  in  order  to 
make  it  answer  his  end.  "  They  who  assert,"  says  he,  "  that 
figure,  motion,  and  the  rest  of  the  primary  or  original  qua- 
lities, do  exist  without  the  mind,   in  unthinking   substances, 
do  at  the  same  time  acknov/ledge,  that  colours,  sounds,  heat, 
cold,    and    such  like    secondary    qualities    do    not;    which, 
they  tell  us   are  sensations  existing  in  the  mind  alone,  that 
depend  on  and  are  occasioned  by  the  different  size,  texture, 
and  motion,  of  the   minute   particles  of  matter.     This  they 
take   for  an  undoubted  truth,   which  they  can  demonstrate 
beyond    all  exception.     Now  if  it  be  certain  that  these  ori- 
ginal qualities  are  inseparably  united  with  the  other  sensi- 
l)le  qualities,  and  not  even  in   thought  capable  of  being  ab- 
stracted from  them,  it  plainly  follows  that  they  exiist  only  in 
the  mind.     But  I  desire  any  one  to  reflect  and  try,  whether 
he  can  by  any  abstraction  of  thought,  conceive  the  extension 
and  motion  of  a  body,  without  all  other  sensible  qualities. 
For  my  own  part,  I  see  evidently  that  it  is  not  in  my  power 
to  frame  an  idea  of  a  body  extended  and  moved,  but  I  must 
withal,  give  it  some  colour  or  other  sensible  quality,  which 
is   acknowledged  to  exist  only  in  the  mind.     In  short,  ex- 
tension, figure,  and  motion,  abstracted  from  all  other  quali- 
ties are  inconceivable.     Where,  therefore,  the  other  sensible 
qualities  are,  there  must  these  be  also;  to  wit,  in  the  mind, 
and  no  where  else."     The  syllogism  contained  here,  is  un- 
worthy of  the  school-boy  in  metaphysics;  but  even  with  the 
acutest   minds,   any  thing  will  pass,   when  the  purpose   is 
served  of  supporting  a  favourite  theory.     There  are  percep- 
tible in  it   a  triple  fallacy.      1st.  The  sensations  of  colour, 
sounds,  heat,   cold,  are   confounded  again,  as  usual  in  this 
author,  with  those   qualities  in  bodies  which  excite  them, 
from   which  they  are  entirely  distinct.     2dly.  These  sensa- 


220  The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley. 

tions,  it  is  said,  being  inseparably  connected  with  the  prima- 
ry qualities  of  body,  as  extension,  figure,  &c.  it  follows,  that 
the  latter  must  be  in  the  mind,  as  well  as  the  former-  Would 
it  not  be  as  good  logic  to  say,  that  as  the  primary  qualities, 
extension,  figure,  &c.  exist  out  of  the  mind,  and  they  are 
always  found  in  connexion  with  colour,  and  other  sensible 
qualities,  therefore  these  last  must  exist  out  of  the  mind, 
and  be  separate  from  it?  There  is  no  kind  of  connexion 
between  the  premises  and  conclusion.  It  would  be  as  per- 
tinent reasoning  to  allege,  that  because  a  man  has  been 
wounded  by  a  sword,  and  can  never  after  see  that  sword, 
without  associating  the  idea  of  his  wound  with  it,  and  being 
in  some  degree  pained,  since  the  sensation  of  pain  is  in  his 
mind,  the  sword  must  be  there  also. 

Thirdly.  It  is  affirmed,  that  figure,  extension,  motion, 
cannot  be  abstracted  by  the  mind,  from  other  qualities,  as 
heat,  cold,  colour,  &c.  which  is  manifestly  false,  since  no- 
thing is  more  common  than  such  abstractions.  Cannot  the 
mathematician  trace  the  relations  of  magnitude  and  figure, 
in  his  cubes,  cones,  and  pyramids,  without  thinking  of 
their  colour,  sound,  taste,  or  odours? 

Again  the  Bishop  says,  "  great  and  small,  swift  and 
slow,  are  allowed  to  exist  no  where  without  the  mind,  being 
entirely  relative,  and  changing  as  the  frame  or  positions  of 
the  organs  of  sense  varies.  The  extension,  therefore,  which 
exists  without  the  mind,  is  neither  great  nor  small,  the  mo- 
tion neither  swift  nor  slow,  that  is,  they  are  nothing  at  all." 
That  is  to  say  the  College  of  Pennsylvania,  at  which  I  now 
look,  changes  its  apparent  magnitude  according  to  the  dis- 
tance and  position  of  my  eye,  is  not  great  when  compared 
to  the  earth  or  sun,  nor  small,  when  compared  to  the 
liouses  around  it;  therefore,  it  is  nothing,  having  no  exten- 
sion. Such  are  the  reasonings  which  have  been  represented 
as  legitimate  deductions  from  the  sound  and  just  philoso- 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  221 

phy  of  the  inimitable  Locke!  When  will  philosophy  cease  to 
disgrace  herself  by  follies  and  absurdities? 

But  to  proceed  with  the  Bishop.  "  It  is  indeed,"  says  he, 
"  an  opinion  strangely  prevalent  amongst  men,  that  houses, 
mountains,  rivers,  and  in  a  word,  all  sensible  objects  have 
an  existence,  natural  or  real,  distinct  from  their  being  per- 
ceived by  the  understanding."  (And  who  will  not  join  the 
Prelate  in  expressing  his  astonishment  at  the  ignorance,  and 
credulity  of  mankind  in  forming  such  an  opinion?)  "  But 
with  how  great  an  assurance  and  acquiescence  soever  this 
principle  may  be  entertained  in  the  world;  yet  whoever  shall 
find  in  his  heart,  to  call  it  in  question  may,  if  I  mistake  not, 
perceive  it  to  involve  a  manifest  contradiction.  For  what 
are  the  forementioned  objects  but  the  things  we  perceive  by 
sense,  and  what  do  we  perceive  besides  our  own  ideas  or 
sensations?"  That  is  to  say,  by  the  eye  we  see  or  perceive 
not  magnitude  and  figure;  but  those  perceptions  or  ideas 
which  the  mind  has  of  them,  by  the  ear,  not  those  undula- 
tions of  the  air,  which  occasion  sound,  but  our  sensations  of 
sound,  and  the  like  of  the  other  senses.  Is  not  such  an  at- 
tempt to  confuse  the  science  of  mind  worthy  of  the  highest 
reprobation.'^  But  the  Bishop  continues  in  the  same 
strain.  "  Some  truths  there  are  so  near,  and  obvious  to  the 
mind,  that  a  man  need  only  open  his  eyes  to  see  them. 
Such  I  take  this  important  one  to  be,  to  wit,  that  all  the 
quire  of  heaven,  and  furniture  of  the  earth,  in  a  word  all 
those  bodies  which  compose  the  mighty  frame  of  the  world, 
have  not  any  subsistence  without  a  mind,  and  that  their 
being  is  to  be  perceived  or  known."  This,  if  established 
would  certainly  be  a  much  greater  discovery  than  any  that 
Newton  could  boast  of.  We  have  only  to  open  our  eyes  to 
perceive  that  there  is  no  sun,  moon,  stars,  or  earth.  Those 
must  be  singular  opticks  that,  instead  of  presenting  objects  to 
our  view,  annihilates  them,  and  ought  to  be  denominated  in- 


222  The  Theorij  oj  Bishop  Berkeley. 

struments  of  vision   reversed,  or    the  power  of  seeing  back- 
ward. 

He  proceeds.  "  But  say  you,  the  ideas  themselves  do 
not  exist  without  the  mindj  yet  there  may  be  things  like 
them  whereof  they  are  copies  or  resemblances,  which 
things  exist  without  the  mind  in  an  unthinking  sub- 
stance. I  answer,  an  idea  can  be  like  nothing  but  an  idea; 
a  colour,  or  figure,  can  be  like  nothing  but  another  colour  or 
figure.  If  we  look  but  ever  so  little  into  our  thoughts,  we 
shall  find  it  impossible  for  us  to  conceive  a  likeness  except 
only  between  our  ideas."  And  yet  Dr.  Reid  represents  all 
the  philosophers  as  maintaining,  that  ideas  are  the  images  or 
representatives  of  outward  objects;  and  Berkeley  as  justly 
inferring  from  thence  the  non-existence  of  an  exterior  world. 
Berkeley  with  more  acutness  perceived  that  this  doctrine 
would  operate  against  his  system;  for  if  there  were  the  ima- 
ges of  outward  objects  in  the  mind,  there  would  be  strong 
presumption,  that  where  there  was  image  there  must  be  the 
real  being;  where  there  was  a  shadow,  there  must  be  a  sub- 
stance; and  where  there  was  a  representative,  there  must  be  a 
constituent. 

But  that  I  may  not  expend  time  uselessly  in  exhibiting 
these  intellectual  fooleries,  this  egregious  trifling  with  our 
understandings,  I  shall  hasten  to  the  only  part  in  which  the 
semblance  of  an  argument  appears,  and  we  shall  see  that  this 
was  the  same  argument  used  by  Mr.  Hume,  and  which  had 
presented  itself  as  a  difficulty  to  Des  Cartes,  Locke,  and  all 
the  philosophers.  I  shall  state  it  at  Full  length  and  in  all 
its  force,  and  the  refutation  of  it  shall  close  our  strictures 
upon  the  Bishop's  performances.  It  is  found  in  his  trea- 
tise upon  the  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  sect.  18, 
part  1st.  "  But  though  it  were  possible  that  solid,  figured, 
moveable  substances  niay  exist  without  the  mind,  corres- 
ponding to  the  ideas  we  have  of  bodies,  yet,  how  is  it  possi- 
ble for  us  to  know  this?     Either  we  must  know  it  by  sense 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  223 

or  by  reason.  As  for  our  senses,  by  them  we  have  the 
knowledge  only  of  our  sensations,  ideas,  or  those  things 
which  are  immediately  perceived  by  sense,  call  them  what 
you  will.  But  they  do  not  inform  us  that  things  exist  with- 
out the  mind;  or  unperceived,  like  to  those  that  are  perceiv- 
ed. This  the  materialists  themselves  acknowledge.  It  re- 
mains, therefore,  that  if  we  have  any  knowledge  at  all  of  ex- 
ternal things,  it  must  be  by  leason,  inferring  their  existence 
from  what  is  immediately  perceived  by  sense.  But  what 
reason  can  induce  us  to  believe  the  existence  of  bodies  with- 
out the  mind,  from  what  we  perceive;  since  the  very  pa- 
trons of  matter  themselves,  do  not  pretend  there  is  any  ne- 
cessary connection  between  them,  and  our  ideas?  I  say,  it 
is  granted  on  all  hands,  (and  what  happens  in  dreams, 
phrensies  and  the  like,  puts  it  beyond  dispute,)  that  it  is 
.possible  we  might  be  affected  with  all  the  ideas  we  have 
now,  though  no  bodies  existed  without  resembling  them. 
Hence  it  is  evident,  the  supposition  of  external  bodies  is 
not  necessary  for  the  producing  our  ideas;  since  it  is  grant- 
ed they  are  produced,  sometimes,  and  might  possibly  be 
produced  always  in  the  same  order  we  see  them  in  at  pre- 
sent, without  their  own  concurrence." 

We  see  the  same  argument  exhibited  by  Mr.  Hume,  with 
some  difference  only  in  the  phraseology,  in  the  Treatise  of 
Human  Nature,  part  4.  sect.  2nd.  "  That  our  senses  offer  not 
their  im  pressions  as  the  images  of  something  distinct,  or  in- 
dependent and  external,  is  evident;  because  they  convey  to  us 
nothing  but  a  single  perception,  and  never  give  us  the  least 
intimation  of  any  thing  beyond.  A  single  perception  can 
never  produce  the  idea  of  a  double  existence,  but  by  some 
inference  of  the  reason  or  imagination.  When  the  mind 
looks  further  than  what  immediately  appears  to  it,  its  con- 
clusions can  never  be  put  to  the  account  of  the  senses;  and 
it  certainly  looks  farther,  when  from  a  single  perception  it 


224  The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley. 

infers  a  double  existence,  and  supposes  the  relation  of  rc" 
semblance,  and  causation  between  them."  As  this  argu- 
ment is  not  without  some  show  of  reason,  we  shall  distinctly 
state  it,  and  then  furnish  our  answer  to  it.  It  consists  in 
this,  which  is  the  ground-work  of  the  system  of  immaterial- 
ism.  It  is  admitted  by  all  the  philosophers,  that  all  our  per- 
ceptions of  outward  objects  are  produced  in  the  mind  by 
some  action  in  the  organs  of  sense,  and  that  those  percep- 
tions, by  the  appointment  of  the  Creator,  are  annexed  to 
such  action.  Now,  upon  what  ground  can  we  infer  the  ex- 
istence of  such  objects,  from  the  mere  circumstance  that  we 
have  perceptions  of  them?  Is  it  from  sense  that  we  arrive 
at  this  conclusion?  But  by  sense,  it  is  evident,  all  that  we 
can  obtain  is,  our  perceptions  of  those  things  we  call  the  ob- 
jects of  sense.  Sense  alone  can  give  us  no  knowledge  of 
their  existence,  since  all  that  it  can  communicate  to  the 
mind  are  our  sensations;  and  it  is  certain  if  that  action 
could  be  produced  in  the  organ,  without  the  existence  of  ob- 
jects, the  perceptions  would  still  be  excited.  Is  it  from  rea- 
son that  we  would  infer  the  existence  of  objects,  grounding 
its  conclusions  upon  our  perception  of  their  qualities?  But 
it  is  clear  also,  that  reason  cannot  deduce  such  an  inference; 
since  we  know  that  there  is  no  necessary  connection  between 
our  perceptions,  and  the  existence  of  objects,  as  appears  in 
the  case  of  dreams,  phrensies,  and  disorders  of  the  mind, 
in  which  things  appear  to  be  present,  that  we  are  sure  have 
no  real  being.  This  Is  the  argument,  and  it  is  not  without 
plausibility.  It  was  this  view  of  the  subject  that  led  Des 
Cartes  to  declare,  that  he  reposed  confidence  in  the  percep- 
tions of  sense,  because  God  could  be  no  deceiver,  and  would 
not  delude  him  by  false  shows  and  apparitions.  The  an- 
swer, however,  to  an  objection  of  this  kind  is  sufficiently 
evident,  upon  the  principles  of  a  sound  philosophy.  The 
testimony  of  our  senses,  to  use  the  language  of  Mr.  Locke, 
IS  the  true,   and  sole   evidence  in  the  case,  and   should  be 


The  Theory  of  Bishop  Berkeley.  2'^5 

deemed~~satisfactory.  Reason  may  furnish  arguments  vihy 
we  should  repose  confidence  in  the  report  which  they  make, 
but  can  never  give  confirmation  to  the  intelligence  they 
communicate.  They  are  the  proper  and  sole  judges  in  the 
case.  The  same  holds  here  as  in  the  instance  of  memory, 
and  intuitive  certainty  in  matters  of  demonstration. 

We  can  give  no  reason  why  we  place  confidence  in  the 
evidence  of  our  memories,  or  why  we  believe  in  the  certain- 
ty of  intuitive  truths;  but  that  such  are  the  laws  of  our  con- 
stitution; and  if  any  one  should  deny  that  we  can  ever  safely 
trust  our  memories,  or  that  we  can  ever  be  perfectly  cer- 
tain that  twice  two  are  four,  and  that  things  equal  to  the 
same  thing  are  equal  to  one  another,  all  that  we  could  an- 
swer, would  be  as  Mr.  Locke  does,  in  the  case  of  the  testi- 
mony of  the  senses,  we  think  him  unworthy  to  be  reasoned 
with.  Some  of  the  ancient  sceptics  we  know  carried  mat- 
ters to  this  extremity,  denying  that  there  was  any  such  thing 
as  truth,  or  if  there  were,  that  it  was  discoverable  by  the 
human  mind,  and  therefore,  made  it  their  boast  to  remain  in 
a. state  of  entire  indifference  and  suspense  of  mind.  Such 
scepticism,  if  we  could  suppose  it  to  be  genuine  and  sincere, 
would  border  upon  insanity,  and  if  affected,  is  an  object  of 
pity  and  contempt. 


Ff 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Mr.  Hume^s  Principles. 

From  Berkeley  let  us   proceed  very  briefly  to   advert  to 
the  principles  of  Mr.  Hume.     Nothing  can  be  more  certain, 
than  that  the  system  of  the  former  leads  by  unavoidable  con- 
sequence to  that   of  the  latter.     It   may  be   remarked  also, 
that  the  Bishop  has   not  taken  any  pains,  or  discovered  any 
solicitude  to  fortify   his  theory  against   invasions  from  this 
quarter.  If  by  our  senses  we  cannot  attain  to  a  knowledge  of 
the  existence  of  material  substances  without,  by  our  conscious- 
ness, we  can,  with  no  greater  degree  of  certainty,  ascertain 
the  existence  of  an  immaterial  principle  within.  If  the  whole 
outward  world  consists  of  a  mere  train   of  perceptions  and 
ideas,   surely  there   is  good  reason  to   infer,  that  the  whole 
of  the  inward  world  consists  of  another  train  of  perceptions 
and  ideas.     The  whole  universe,  therefore,  upon  the  princi- 
ples of  this  sublime  philosophy,  is  resolved  into  a  succession 
of  fleeting  ideas,  following  each  other  according  to  certain 
laws  of   association.     The   metaphysicians    of   the  Scottish 
school,  and  particularly  Reid  and  Stewart,  are  lavish  of  their 
encomiums  upon  Mr.  Hume;  and  undoubtedly,  as  an  elegant 
historian,  too   much  praise  cannot  be  bestowed  upon  him. 
His   history,  as   a   production  of  genius,  stands  unrivalled, 
except  by  Thucydides  and  Livy;  and  1  think,  taking  it  alto- 
gether, considering  it  in  reference  to  the  simplicity  and  beau- 
ty  of  the  composition,  the   lively   and   agreeable   narration 
which  it   contains  of  matters  of  fact,  the  masterly  delinea- 


228  Jlr.  Hume's  Principles. 

tion  of  characters,  and  the  mass  of  important  and  useful  in- 
formation he  has  included  in  it,  it  is  to  be  preferred  to  all 
others.  But  as  a  metaphysician,  I  utterly  deny  his  claims, 
either  to  a  just  comprehension  of  his  subject,  or  to  propriety 
and  perspicuity  in  his  modes  of  expression.  He  had  read 
on  this  subject,  as  he  had  on  those  connected  with  religion, 
without  having  studied  and  understood  them.  Let  me,  how- 
ever, in  order  to  justify  my  strictures  give  a  brief  sketch  of 
his  opinions,  in  his  ©wn  language. 

He  divides  all  our  perceptions  into  impressions  and  ideas, 
without  any  license  from  the  received  philosophy  of  his  time, 
or  any  ground  in  nature  for  such  a  distinction,  and  yet  he 
gives  us  no  reason  for  it.  The  diflference  betwixt  impres- 
sions and  ideas,  consists  in  the  degrees  of  force  and  liveli- 
ness, with  which  they  strike  upon  the  mind,  and  make  their 
way  into  our  thought  or  consciousness.  Those  perceptions 
which  enter  with  the  most  force  and  violence,  we  may  name 
impressions,  and  under  this  head  he  comprehends  all  our  sen- 
sations, passions  and  emotions,  as  they  make  their  first  ap- 
pearance in  the  soul. 

By  ideas,  he  means  the  faint  images  of  these  in  thinking  and 
reasoning.  All  our  simple  ideas  are  in  their  first  appearance 
derived  from  simple  impressions,  which  are  correspondent 
to  them,  and  which  they  exactly  represent.  He  finds  by  ex- 
perience that  the  simple  impressions,  always  take  the  prece- 
dence of  the  correspondent  ideas,  but  never  appear  in  the 
contrary  order.  This  appears  both  from  the  order  of  their 
appearance,  and  from  the  phenomenon,  that  wherever  by  ac- 
cident the  faculties  which  give  rise  to  any  impressions  are 
obstructed  in  their  operations,  as  when  one  is  born  blind  or 
deaf,  not  only  the  impressions  are  lost,  but  their  correspon- 
dent ideas."  Again  he  proceeds — "  Impressions  may  be  di- 
vided into  two  kinds,  those  of  sensation  and  those  of  reflec- 
tion. The  first  kind  arises  in  the  soul,  originally  from  un- 
known causes.     The  second   is  derived  in  a  great  measure 


Mr,  Huine*s  Principles.  229 

• 
from  our  ideas,  and  that  in  the  following  order.   An  impres- 
sion first  strikes  upon  the  senses,  and  makes  us  perceive  heat 
or  cold,  thirst  or  hunger,  pleasure  or  pain  of  some  kind  or 
other.     Of  this  impression  there  is  a  copy  taken  by  the  mind, 
which  remains  after  the  impression  ceases,  and  this  we  call 
an  idea.  This  idea  of  pleasure  or  pain,  when  it  returns  upon 
the  soul,  produces  the  new  impressions  of  desire  and  aver- 
sion, hope  and  fear,  which  rnay   properly  be   called   impres- 
sions of  reflection,  because  derived  from  it.     These   again 
are  copied  by  the   memory   and   imagination,  and  become 
ideas;  which  perhaps  in  their  turn  give  rise  to   impressions 
and  ideas."  Thus  is  laid  the  foundation  of  a  theory,  which 
has  received  such  frequent  and  honourable  mention,  in  the 
works  of  most  metaphysicians  of  the  Scottish  school.     First, 
impressions  beget  ideas,  their  images  or  copies,  and  distin- 
guished from  them  only  by  having  a  less  degree  of  force  and 
vivacity;  then  these  ideas  again  beget  other  impressions,  hav- 
ing a  greater  degree  of  force  and  vivacity  than  themselves; 
then  again,  to  carry  on  the  work  of  procreation  in  regular  line, 
these  new  impressions  beget  new  ideas,  and  so  on.  We  have 
heard  a  great  deal  of  the  jargon  and  intellectual  fooleries  of 
the  schoolmen,  and  Mr.  Hume  is  as  ready  as  any  one  to  join 
in  the  cry  against  them;  but  we  defy  any  one  to  produce  from 
their  voluminous  works,  any  specimen   of  a  more  complete 
Babylonish  dialect,  than  that  v/hich  we  have  presented  from 
the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature.  For  our  part,  we  must  con- 
fess, that  we  are  utterly  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  repeated 
panegyrics  bestowed  by  Dr.  Reid  and  others   upon  this  au- 
thor, as  when  he  is  called  the  acute  metaphysician,  one  of  the 
acutest  metaphysicians  that  ever  lived,  and   his  works   and 
opinions  are  made   to  occupy   as  large  a  share  of  attention, 
and    considered   as  entitled  to  the    same   respect  as   those 
of  Locke,  Aristotle,  Des   Cartes,  and  Mallebranche.      We 
think  that  all  that  he  has  written  on   these  subjects,  have 
detracted  from  his  reputation,  instead  of  making  any  addi- 


230  Mr,  Hume's  Principles, 

« 
tions  to  his,  in  other  respects,  well  deserved  fame.     He  had 

read  Mr.  Locke,  Berkeley  and  others,  with  just  sufficient 
care,  to  obtain  crude  and  indigested  ideas  of  the  subjects 
treated  of  by  them,  but  he  evidently  discovers  that  he  never 
understood  them;  and  with  the  crude  materials  thus  collect- 
ed by  a  cursory  perusal,  he  has  attempted  to  rear  a  ridicu- 
lous superstructure  of  scepticism  and  foolery.  In  order  to 
justify  animadversions  that  may  appear  to  be  severe,  let  me 
briefly  state  some  of  the  points  attempted  to  be  maintained 
in  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  and  the  language  in  which 
they  are  conveyed.  I  would  premise,  however,  this  state- 
ment of  his  doctrine  with  this  single  observation,  that  it  will 
readily  be  perceived,  if  the  account  before  mentioned  be  re- 
garded as  a  true  one,  then  his  sceptical  inferences  are  irre- 
sistible. For  if  our  original  impressions  are  derived  from 
unknown  causes,  and  these  impressions  beget  ideas  their  co- 
pies, these  copies  of  external  impressions,  again  produce  im- 
pressions of  reflection,  and  these  again  ideas  of  reflection;  it 
is  clear  that  all  the  objects  of  human  perception  and  know- 
ledge are  resolved  at  once  into  fleeting  trains  of  ideas,  and 
there  is  no  necessity  for  supposing  the  existence  of  a  mate- 
rial or  immaterial  principle  in  man. 

To  proceed  with  our  proposed  statement  of  his  opinions. 
Mr,  Hume  maintains,  that  we  have  no  idea  of  substance, 
space,  time,  extension,  or  of  a  mathematical  point,  and  no 
abstract  ideas.  He  says,  a  straight  line  is  not  well  defined  to 
be  the  shortest  distance  between  two  points,  and  thinks  that 
more  than  one  right  line,  may  be  drawn  between  two  points; 
as  for  instance,  supposing  two  lines  to  approach  at  the  rate 
of  an  inch  in  twenty  leagues,  he  perceives  no  absurdity  in 
asserting,  that  upon  their  contact  they  become  one.  He  as- 
serts, that  we  are  incapable  in  geometry-,  of  telling  when  two 
figures  are  equal,  when  a  line  is  a  right  one,  and  when  a 
surface  is  a  plain  one.  He  maintains,  that  it  is  impossible 
for   us   to  form   any  idea  of  any  thing  specifically  different 


Mr^  Hume's  Principles.  231 

from  ideas  and  impressions;  that  all  our  arguments  concern- 
ing causes  and  effects,  consist  both  of  an  impression  of  the 
memorj'  or  senses,  and  of  the  idea  of  that  existence,  which 
produces  the  object  of  the  impression,  or  is  produced  by  it. 
"  He  asserts,  that  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  the  memory 
and  imagination;  that  the  belief  or  assent  which  always  at- 
tends the  memory  and  senses,  is  nothing  but  the  vivacity  of 
those  perceptions  they  present;  that  the  necessity  which 
makes  two  times  two  equal  to  four,  or  the  three  angles  of  a 
triangle  equal  to  two  right  ones,  lies  only  in  the  act  of  the 
understanding,  by  which  we  compare  these  ideas;  and  that 
in  like  manner,  the  necessity  or  power  which  unites  causes 
and  effects,  lies  in  the  determination  of  the  mind  to 
pass  from  the  one  to  the  other,  Mr.  Hume  maintains,  that 
any  thing  may  produce  any  thing,  creation,  annihilation, 
motion,  reason,  volition,  &c.  defines  reason  to  be  nothing 
but  a  wonderful  and  unintelligible  instinct  in  our  souls,  which 
carries  us  along  a  certain  train  of  ideas,  and  endows  them 
with  particular  qualities,  according  to  their  particular  situa- 
tions and  relations.  He  asserts,  that  all  our  reasonings  con- 
cerning causes  and  effects,  are  derived  from  nothing  but 
custom;  and  belief  is  more  properly  an  act  of  the  sensitive, 
than  of  the  cogitative  part  of  our  nature.  Finally,  to  hasten 
to  the  conclusion  of  this  list  of  absurdities,  he  asserts,  that 
the  doctrine  of  the  immateriality,  simplicity,  and  indivisibility 
of  a  thinking  substance  is  true  atheism,  and  will  serve  to 
justify  all  the  sentiments,  for  which  Spinoza  is  so  universal- 
ly infamous;  that  we  have  no  idea  of  self  or  personal  identi- 
ty; that  the  true  idea  of  the  human  mind,  is  to  consider  it  as 
a  system  of  different  perceptions  or  different  existences, 
which  are  linked  together  by  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect, 
and  mutually  produce,  destroy,  influence,  and  modify  each 
other;  that  identity  depends  on  the  relations  of  ideas;  and 
these  relations  produce  identity,  by  means  of  that  easy  tran- 
sition they  occasion;   and   lastly,  he  defines  belief  to  be   a 


232  Dr.  Reid's  Theory. 

lively  idea  associated  to  a  present  impression."  Was  ever 
such  a  chaos  of  absurdity,  such  a  despicable  jargon  attempt- 
ed to  be  imposed  upon  the  world,  under  the  respectable 
name  of  philosophy!  And  this  too  in  a  writer,  who  in  his 
metaphysical  disquisitions  had  promised  the  literary  world, 
"  to  throw  some  light  upon  subjects,  from  which  uncertainty 
had  hitherto  deterred  the  wise,  and  obscurity  the  ignorant," 
to  unite  the 'boundaries  of  the  different  species  of  philoso- 
phy, by  reconciling  profound  inquiry  with  clearness,  and 
truth  with  novelty,  and  "  to  banish  all  that  jargon,  which 
has  so  long  taken  possession  of  metaphysical  reasonings,  and 
drawn  such  disgrace  upon  them."  He  says  himself,  of  the 
Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  that  it  fell  still-horn  from  the  press, 
and  was  not  called  into  life,  until  buoyed  up  into  notice,  by 
his  next  publication,  its  more  fortunate  brother;  and  it  would 
have  been  better  for  it,  if  it  had  been  allowed  by  the  litera- 
ry world,  to  make  its  peaceful  exit  unnoticed  and  unknown, 
than  to  have  been  ushered  into  light,  only  to  drag  out  a  mi- 
serable existence,  with  a  distempered  constitution  and  a 
crazy  brain;  and  at  the  same  time  uttering  a  language  blas- 
phemous and  confused,  to  expose  it  to  the  contempt  and  en- 
mity of  both  God  and  man.  Happy  would  it  be  for  this  au- 
thor, if  those  portions  of  his  works  which  relate  to  meta- 
physics, to  morals  and  religion,  could  be  erased.  His  reputa- 
tion would  then  be  untarnished,  and  his  name  descend  to 
future  ages,  with  unsullied  and  continually  increasing  hon- 
ours. 

I  shall  conclude  my  account  of  perception,  with  the  sys- 
tem of  Dr.  Reid.  As  this  writer  has  taken  such  liberty  with 
the  doctrines  of  the  philosophers  who  preceded  him,  we  are 
prepared  to  anticipate  from  his  researches,  some  great  im- 
provement and  some  extraordinary  discovery.  Let  us  put 
this  matter  to  a  fair  test,  and  see  what  merit  he  is  entitled 
to,  on  so  interesting  a  branch  of  metaphysical  science.  We 
have  seen  that  the  charge   is  unfounded,  which  he  alleged 


JOr.  Reld's  Theory.  233 

against  the  philosophers  of  maintaining  that  in  perception, 
besides  the  object  perceived,  the  mind  that  perceives,  and 
the  perception  of  the  mind,  there  is  a  fourth  thing  called  an 
idea,  image  or  representative,  and  which  alone  is  perceived 
by  the  mind.  Having  freed  the  philosophers  from  this  accu- 
sation, of  consequence,  the  merit  to  which  he  lays  claim  of 
having  detected  their  error,  and  brought  mankind  back 
from  the  illusions  of  hypothesis  to  nature  and  common 
sense,  is  not  justly  his  due.  Let  us  now  examine  the  doc- 
trine, which  he  himself  has  broached  and  endeavoured  to 
establish.  I  am  happy,  however,  now  to  have  it  in  vciy  pow- 
er to  bestow  another  degree  of  praise  upon  so  learned  and 
respectable  a  writer.  If  I  cannot  allow  him  the  merit  of 
originality  on  this  subject,  inasmuch  as  I  am  entirely  satis- 
lied,  that  when  he  supposes  himself  combatting  the  princi- 
ples of  Mr.  Locke,  he  is,  in  truth  supporting  his  doctrines, 
and  where  he  departs  from  his  track,  he  wanders  into  the 
paths  of  error;  I  do  not  hesitate  to  admit,  that  he  has  con 
tributed  to  throw  no  inconsiderable  light  upon  the  subject  of 
perception,  as  well  as  other  points  of  metaphysical  science. 
No  one  could  be  certain,  that  he  would  have  been  able  so 
clearly  to  understand  these  matters,  or  even  the  doctrines  of 
Mr.  Locke,  unless  he  had  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  Dr. 
Reid's  treatises.  We  have  seen,  that  the  doctrine  of  Mr. 
Locke  is,  that  when  any  object  is  presented  to  us,  through 
the  instrumentality  of  the  organs  of  sense,  and  the  action  of 
bodies  upon  them  by  means  of  their  several  mediums,  we 
have  sensations  or  perceptions  of  their  qualities,  and  at  the 
same  time  a  conviction  founded  on  what  he  calls  the  testi- 
mony of  the  senses,  of  the  existence  of  those  objects.  Let 
us  see  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Reid  on  this  point,  and  in  what 
respect  he  has  attempted  to  improve  upon  the  system  of 
Locke.  "  When  I  smell  a  rose,"  says  he,  "  there  is  in  this 
operation  both  sensation  and  perception.  The  agreeable 
odour  I  feel,  considered  by  itself,  without  relation  to  any  ex- 


234  D).  Reid'^s  Theory* 

temal  object,  is  merely  a  sensation.  It  affects  the  mind  in  a 
certain  way;  and  this  affection  of  the  mind  may  be  conceiv- 
ed without  a  thought  of  the  rose  or  any  other  object.  This 
sensation  can  be  nothing  else  than  it  is  feh  to  be.  Its  very 
essence  consists  in  being  felt;  and  when  it  is  not  felt,  it  is 
not.  There  is  no  difference  between  the  sensation,  and  the 
feeling  of  it,  they  are  one  and  the  same  thing.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  we  before  observed,  that,  in  sensation,  there  is 
no  object  distinct  from  that  act  of  the  mind  by  which  it  is 
felt;  and  this  holds  true  with  regard  to  all  sensations. 

Let  us  next  attend  to  the  perception  which  we  have  in 
smelling  a  rose.  Perception  has  always  an  external  object, 
and  the  object  of  my  perception  in  this  case,  is  that  quality 
in  the  rose  which  I  discern  by  the  sense  of  smell.  Observ- 
ing that  the  agreeable  sensation  is  raised  when  the  rose  is 
near,  and  ceases  when  it  is  removed,  I  am  led  by  ray  nature 
to  conclude  some  quality  to  be  in  the  rose,  which  is  the 
cause  of  this  sensation.  This  quality  in  the  rose  is  the  ob- 
ject perceived;  and  that  act  of  the  mind,  by  which  I  have 
the  conviction  and  belief  of  this  quality  is  what,  in  this  case, 
I  call  perception."  In  the  distinction  here  made  between 
sensation  and  perception,  and  in  analizing  that  complex  ope- 
ration of  the  mind,  which  takes  place  in  our  converse  with 
the  external  world,  consists  what  may  be  considered  as  the 
discovery  of  Dr.  Reid,  upon  which  he  evidently  builds  no 
small  claims  to  merit,  and  which  we  see  his  follower  Profes- 
sor Stewart,  speaking  of  in  terms  of  high  panegyric.  Dr. 
Reid  himself,  speaking  on  this  subject,  says — "  I  shall  con- 
clude this  chapter  by  observing,  that  as  the  confounding 
our  sensations  with  that  perception  of  external  objects,  which 
is  constantly  conjoined  with  tht^m,  has  been  the  occasion  of 
most  of  the  errors  and  false  theories  of  philosophers,  with 
regard  to  the  senses;  so  the  distinguishing  these  operations 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  key,  that  leads  to  a  right  understand- 
ing of  both."     He  is  so  fond  of  this  distinction,  that  he  fre- 


Dr.  Reid's  Theory.  235 

quently  recurs  to  it,  "  Sensation,"  says  he,  "  taken  by  itself, 
implies  neither  the  conception  nor  belief  of  any  external  ob- 
ject. It  supposes  a  sentient  being,  and  a  certain  manner  in 
%vhich  that  being  is  affected,  but  it  supposes  no  more.  Per- 
ception implies  an  immediate  conviction  and  belief  of  some- 
thing external;  something  different  both  from  the  mind  that 
perceives,  and  from  the  act  of  perception.  Things  so  differ- 
ent in  their  nature,  ought  to  be  distinguished;  but  by  our 
constitution  they  are  always  united.  Every  different  percep- 
tion is  conjoined  with  a  sensation  that  is  proper  to  it.  The 
one  is  the  sign,  the  other  the  thing  signified.  They  coalesce 
in  our  imagination.  They  are  signified  by  one  name,  and  are 
considered  as  one  simple  operation.  The  purposes  of  life  do 
not  require  them  to  be  distinguished.  It  is  the  philosopher 
alone  who  has  occasion  to  distinguish  them,  when  he  would 
analyze  the  operation  compounded  of  them.  But  he  has  no 
suspicion  that  there  is  any  composition  in  it;  and  to  discover 
this  requires  a  degree  of  reflection,  which  has  been  too  little 
practised  even  by  philosophers." 

After  broaching  this  theory,  which  was  undoubtedly  be- 
fore unknown  to  the  schools,  how  could  Mr.  Stewart  speak 
in  the  following  terms  of  Dr.  Reid's  doctrine  about  percep- 
tion? It  would  really  appear,  as  if  he  had  not  sufficiently 
studied  the  works  of  his  master  to  understand  them.  "  But 
although  Dr.  Keid  has  been  at  much  pains  to  overturn  the 
old  ideal  system,  he  has  not  ventured  to  substitute  any  hy- 
pothesis of  his  own  in  its  place.  And,  indeed,  he  was  too 
well  acquainted  with  the  limits  prescribed  to  our  philoso- 
phical inquiries,  to  think  of  indulging  his  curiosity  in  such 
unprofitable  speculations.  All,  therefore,  that  he  is  to  be 
understood  as  aiming  at,  in  his  inquiries  concerning  our  per- 
ceptive powers,  is  to  give  a  precise  state  of  the  fact,  devest- 
ed of  all  theoretical  expressions,  in  order  to  prevent  philo- 
sophers from  imposing  on  themselves  any  longer,  by  words 
without  meaning,  and  to  extort  from  them  an  acknowledg- 


236  Dr.  Reid''s  Theory. 

ment,  that  with  respect  to  the  process  of  nature   in  percep- 
tion, they  are  no  less  ignorant  than  the  vulgar."     With  re- 
gard to  the  encomium  bestowed  by  the   professor  upon  his 
friend,  in  the  last  part  of  this  paragraph,  we  have  only  to  re- 
mark, that  if  it  be  considered  as  exclusive  and  peculiar,  it  is 
altogether  unmerited,  for  we  trust  it  will  appear  from  what 
we  have  before  stated,  that  no  man  better   understood  the 
limits  of  human  knowledge,  and  more  strictly  confined  him- 
self within  them  in  all  his  investigations,  than   Mr.  Locke, 
or  appears  less  inclined  to  indulge  his  curiosity  in  unprofita- 
ble speculations;  and  moreover,  no  one   in  "  his  inquiries 
concerning  our  perceptive  powers,  has  more  closely  confined 
himself  to   a  precise   state  of  the   fact,  and  more  explicitly 
avows  his  ignorance  of  the  manner  of  perception,  or  to  use 
the  splendid  diction  of  the  Professor,  of  the  process  of  na- 
ture in  perception."  In  reference  to  the  assertion  in  the  first 
part  of  the   paragraph,  that  although  Dr.  Reid  has  been  at 
great  pains  to  overturn  the  old  ideal  system,  he  has  not  ven- 
tured to  substitute  any  hypothesis  of  his  own  in  its  place,  it 
is  totally  unfounded.   He  has  given  his  solution  of  the   phe- 
nomenon of  perception,   or  that  operation  of  the  mind,  by 
which  we  become  acquainted  with  the  existence  and  quali- 
ties of  outward  objects,  as  distinctly  as  Mr.  Locke,  or  any 
other  writer.     Mr.   Locke,  for  instance,   maintains   that  in 
smelling  a  rose,  we  have   a  sensation  or  perception,   (for  he 
considers  the  terms  in  this  case  synonymous,)  of  an  agreea- 
ble odour,   and   at  the  same  time   an  immediate  conviction, 
arising  out  of  the  testimony  of  the  senses,  of  the   existence 
of  some  object  in  nature,  which  causes  that  perception.    Dr. 
Reid  informs  us,  that  in  smelling   a   rose,  we   have  both  a 
sensation   of  an   agreeable    odour   and   also   perception,  by 
which  he  means  an  act  of  the  mind  different  from  sensation. 
This  will  lead,  however,   to   a   statement  of  his   system,  in 
which  I  think,  we  shall  perceive   that  as  much  as  he  com- 
plains of  Mr.  Locke,  and  the  other  philosophers,  on  account 


Dr.  Re'td^s  Theory.  237 

of  their  indistinct  and  ambiguous  use  of  terms,  he  is  by  no 
means  free  from  the  charge  of  a  want  of  perspicuity  and 
precision. 

First.  We  are  told  in  essay  2,  ch.  5,  of  the  intellectual 
system;  "  If,  therefore,  we  attend  to  that  act  of  the  mind 
which  we  call  the  perception  of  an  external  object  of  sense, 
we  shall  find  in  it  these  three  things.  First,  some  conception 
or  notion  of  the  object  perceived;  secondly,  a  strong  and  ir- 
resistible conviction  and  belief  of  its  present  existence;  and 
thirdly,  that  this  conviction  and  belief  are  immediate,  and 
not  the  effect  of  reasoning. 

Secondly.  We  have  seen  before  in  a  passage  quoted  from 
him,  that  he  says,  v/hen  I  smell  a  rose  there  is  in  this  ope- 
ration, both  sensation  and  perception.  The  agreeable  odour  I 
feel,  is  a  sensation.  Let  us  see  now  by  putting  these  two 
passages  together,  how  complex  an  operation  of  the  mind, 
is  supposed  by  the  Dr.  to  be  produced  by  merely  smelling  a 
rose.  When  I  smell  a  rose  there  is  in  that  act  of  the  mind, 
both  sensation  and  perception;  that  is  according  to  his  own 
account,  there  are  four  distinct  acts  of  the  mind  in  that  sin- 
gle operation;  first,  an  agreeable  sensation  or  odour;  next, 
some  conception  or  notion  of  the  object  perceived;  then,  a 
strong  and  irresistible  conviction  and  belief  of  its  present 
existence;  and  lastly,  that  this  conviction  and  belief  are  im- 
mediate, and  not  the  effect  of  reasoning.  We  can  readily 
admit,  that  when  we  come  philosophically  to  analyze  the 
operations  of  our  minds,  there  is  greater  complexity  in  them 
than  the  vulgar,  who  are  prone  to  confound  things  that  are 
distinct,  are  apt  to  imagine;  but  we  cannot  think  that  in  the 
simple  act  of  smelling  a  rose,  there  can  be  so  great  a  varie- 
ty of  perceptions,  as  is  here  represented.  As  to  the  second 
act  of  the  mind  here  supposed  to  be  excited,  what  other 
conception  or  notion  can  we  have  of  the  smell  of  a  rose,  but 
that  it  is  an  agreeable  odour  of  a  distinct  and  peculiar  kind, 
which  we  obtain  from  sensation?  And  as  to  the  last  act,  that 


238  Dr.  ReicPs  Theory., 

this  belief  and  conviction  are  immediate  and  not  the  effect 
of  reasoning,  this  so  far  from  entering  into  our  primitive  no- 
tices of  things,  is  rather  an  inference  deduced  by  philoso- 
phers, from  examining  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind. 
The  lessons  of  philosophy  teach  us  that  before  reason  can 
come  in  to  our  aid,  we  have  a  firm  conviction  of  the  exist- 
ence and  order  of  an  exterior  world.  All  the  complexity, 
therefore,  which  we  see  any  solid  ground  to  admit  in  that 
operation  of  the  mind,  by  which  we  have  our  notices  of  ex- 
ternal bodies,  is  that  which  is  recognized  in  the  system  of 
Mr.  Locke;  that  by  sensation  or  perception,  we  are  render- 
ed sensible  of  their  qualities,  and  this  perception  of  the  qua- 
lity, is  accompanied  at  the  same  time,  M'ith  an  irresistible 
conviction,  from  the  testimony  of  sense,  of  its  real  existence 
in  rerum  natura.  If  Ur.  Reid  had  maintained,  that  in  the 
converse  we  hold  with  an  exterior  world,  besides  sensation, 
by  which  we  become  acquainted  with  the  qualities  of  bo- 
dies, by  perception  also,  we  are  informed  of  their  actual 
existence  in  rerum  natura,  the  distinction  would  have  been 
intelligible,  and  have  corresponded  to  what  Mr.  Locke  de- 
nominates the  testimou)'  of  the  senses. 

But  let  us  exHmine  a  Utile  more  narrowly  the  sentiments 
of  the  Dr.  "  When  I  smell  a  rose,  there  is  in  this  operation 
both  sensation  and  percepiion.  The  agreeable  odour  I  feel, 
considered  by  itself  without  relation  to  an  external  object, 
is  merely  a  sensation.  Let  us  next  attend  to  the  perception 
which  we  have  in  smelling  a  rose.  Perception  has  always 
an  external  object;  and  the  object  of  my  perception,  in  this 
case,  is  that  quality  in  the  rose,  which  I  discern  by  the 
sense  of  smell."  Here  we  see,  that  it  is  assumed  as  a  prin- 
ciple without  any  proof,  that  while  perception  has  an  exter- 
nal object,  sensation  has  none?  Is  this  a  self  evident  truth? 
When  I  apply  my  nostril  to  a  rose,  and  imbibe  an  agreeable 
odour,  is  not  the  object  of  my  sensation,  in  that  case,  the 
■effluvium  emitted  from  that  flower?     Could  I   ever  obtain 


Dr.  Reid^s  Theory,  239 

that  sensation  unless  that  quality  in  the  rose,  acted  upon  the 
olfactory  organs?     Has  not  sensation,  therefore,  in  all  cases 
an  external   object?     But  it  is   said,  this  sensation    merely 
affects  the  mind  in   a  certain  way;   and  this  affection  of  the 
mind  may  be  conceived  without  a  thought  of  the  rose  or  any 
other  object."     It  is   true  it   may   be  conceived   without  a 
thought  of  the  rose,  or  any  other  object,  except  the  effluvia 
emitted  from  the  rose  itself.     Originally  it   is   certain,  we 
could  have  no  conception  or  notion  of  the   odour  of  a  rose, 
unless  we  had  experienced  that  sensation;  but  the  rose  itself 
gives  us  many  more  perceptions  besides   that   of  its  agreea- 
ble odour.      It  is  true,  as  the  Dr.  asserts,  that  our  sensation 
can  be  nothing  else  than  it  is  felt  to  be,  and  its  very  essence 
consists  in  being  felt,  and  when  it  is  not  felt  it  is  not."    But 
does  not  the  very  term  sensation   imply  that  something   is 
felt?  Now  let  me  ask  what  it  is  that  is  felt?     Not  the  sensa- 
tion itself  surely,  for  that  would  be  to  m  lintain  that  we  have 
a  sensation  of  a  sensation,  and  the  first  sensation  would  re- 
main to  be  accounted  for.     Wherever  we  have  a  sensation, 
the  very  term    implies   that  there   is  something  felt,  or  that 
there  is  an  object  of  that  sensation.     Nothing  can  be  more 
clear  than  this  simple  proposition.     "  Perception,  however, 
we  are  told,  has    an   external  object;  and  the  object  of  my 
perception,  in  this  case,  is  that  quality  in  the  rose   which  I 
discern  by  the  sense  of  smell."     That  is  to  say  by  sensation 
or  our  sense  of  smell  alone,  do  we  become  acquainted  with 
the  fact  that  there   is  such  a  quality   in  the  rose,  as  can  ex- 
cite in  us  an   agreeable  odour;   and  yet   by  perception  alone 
we  become  apprised  of  the  existence  of  that  quality.     Sen- 
sation is  here,  indeed,  made  as  blind  as  a  bat;  while  percep- 
tion is  as  sharp  sighted  as  an  eagle.     He  proceeds.     '"  This 
quality  in  the  rose,  is  the  object  perceived;   and  that  act  of 
my  mind,  by  which  I  have  the  conviction  and  belief  of  this 
quality,  is,  what  in  this  case,   I  call  perception."     But  cer- 
tainly when    I  smell  a  rose,  the  object  smelt  or  which  com- 


240  Dr.  ReidU  Theory. 

municates  a  sensation  to  me,  is  some  quality  in  it;  and  the 
object  of  my  sensation  is  that  quality.  It  is  an  acknow- 
ledged rule  of  philosophising  that  no  more  causes  of  things 
are  to  be  admitted  than  are  both  true  and  sufficient  to  ex- 
plain the  phenomena.  Now  by  admitting  that  we  have  sen- 
sations or  perceptions  of  the  qualities  of  objects  around  us, 
and  that  these  sensations  and  perceptions  are  always  accom- 
panied by  an  immediate  and  irresistible  conviction  or  belief 
of  the  real  existence  of  those  objects,  all  the  phenomena  are 
explained  without  having  recourse  to  a  refined  and  unintel- 
ligible distinction  between  sensation  and  perception;  or 
multiplying,  beyond  the  necessity  of  the  case,  those  acts  of 
the  mind  by  which  we  are  made  acquainted  with  an  exter- 
nal world. 

To  make  the   case  more  clear  by  an  example.     I  enter  a 
room  in  which  there   is  a  magnolia,  whose   odour  I   have 
never  before  smelt.     Now  certainly  all   that  I  can  be  sensi- 
ble of  in  this  case  is  an  agreeable  odour,  attended  by  an  im- 
mediate   conviction   that  there   is  something   in  the   room 
which  causes  that  sensation.     Nothing  seems   to  be   more 
evident,  than  that  the  only  communication  I  can  hold   with 
that  flower,  and  the  only  intimation  I  have  of  that  agreeable 
odour  in  it  is  through  the  organs  of  smelling;  and  to  talk  of 
perception,  in  this  instance,   as   a   distinct   act  of  the   mind 
from  sensation  or   smelling,   whose  object  is  that  quality  of 
the   magnolia,   while   smelling  has  no   object,   or   in   other 
words  we  smell  nothing,  is  at  once  to  pervert  the  meaning 
of  words  as  well  as  to  misinterpret  the  voice   of  nature.     I 
am  afraid,   therefore,  that  although   the    Dr.  had   promised 
himself,  and  the  literary  world  so  much  advantage  from  the 
discovery  of  these    distinct   acts  of  the   mind  in  perception, 
and  thus  analyzing  its  complex  operations,  when  critically  ex- 
amined, it  will  not  bear   the  test;   but  will  be  found  to  be  a 
distinction  without  a  difference.     He  seems  to  have  imagin- 
ed that  in  discovering  this  distinction  between  sensation,  and 


-Dr»  ReicPs  Theory.  241 

perception,  he  had  erected  an  impregnable  fortress,  at  a 
point  too  in  which  there  was  previously  no  adequate  de- 
fence against  the  scepticism  of  Berkeley,  and  Humej  but  I 
apprehend  in  this  expectation  he  was  entirely  mistaken. 
Since  all  you  know  about  an  external  world,  exclaim,  Berke- 
ley and  Hume,  consists  of  your  sensations,  how  can  you 
conclude  that  there  is  any  thing  existing  distinct  from  your 
sensations?  We  have  shown  how  other  philosophers  re- 
solved this  query.  Dr.  Reid,  would  reply;  because,  besides 
my  sensations  of  the  qualities  of  bodies,  I  have  distinct  per- 
ceptions of  those  qualities,  and  my  perceptions  must  al- 
ways have  an  external  object.  The  reply  might  be  made 
still  by  the  scepticks,  how  do  you  know  that  there  exists  in 
the  world  any  thing  more  than  your  perceptions  and  sensa- 
tions, admitting  that  they  are  distinct  acts  of  the  mind? 
Your  perceptions  are  in  the  mind,  as  well  as  your  sensations, 
and  moreover  you  yourself  admit,  that  it  is  by  means  of  sen- 
sations you  arrive  at  your  perceptions  of  the  qualities  of 
bodies.  Now,  under  these  circumstances,  can  you  derive  from 
these  perceptions  any  better  proof  of  the  existence  of  exter- 
nal objects  than  from  your  sensations?  You  yourself  admit 
in  the  case  of  the  rose,  "  the  object  of  my  perception  in  this 
case  is  that  quality  in  the  rose,  which  I  discern  by  the  sense 
of  smell."  Now  can  this  act  of  perception,  which  depends 
upon  sensation  for  all  the  information  it  obtains  about  the 
qualities  of  body,  give  you  a  more  complete  knowledge 
of  the  external  world,  than  sensation  itself? 

It  is,  I  think  sufficiently  apparent  from  the  foregoing  ob- 
servations, that  Dr.  Reid  has  erected  no  new  or  more  effec- 
tual barriers,  than  had  been  reared  by  his  predecessors, 
against  the  inroads  of  sophistry,  and  scepticism.  Berkeley, 
and  Hume,  if  they  were  now  living,  might  maintain  their  doc- 
trines with  as  much  plausibility  as  ever,  and  find  no  greater 
impediments  than  formerly,  in  raising  their  superstructure. 
The  fact  is,  that  a  belief  in  the  existence  of  bodies  and  their 

Hh 


242  Dr.Reid's  Theory. 

qualities  necessarily  acconipanies  our  perceptions,  as  a  be- 
litf  in  things,  which  we  distinctly  remen^ber  having  once  ex- 
isted, accompanies  the  remembrance  of  them,  or  as  the  belief 
that  a  proposition  is  actually  presented  to  our  understand- 
ings attends  our  attempts  to  comprehend  it,  or  as  the  belief 
that  the  sword  which  has  wounded  us  exists,  from  the  cir- 
cumstance of  its  having  inflicted  the  wound. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Of  the  Primary  and  Secondary  qualities  of  Bodies. 

The  primary  qualities  of  body,  as  enumerated  by  Mr. 
Locke,  are  extension,  figure,  solidity,  motion,  rest,  hardness, 
softness,  divisibility,  fluidity;  the  secondary,  are  sound, 
colour,  taste,  smell,  heat  and  cold,  and  such  like.  The  first 
are  called  primary,  because  they  inseparably  belong  to  mat- 
ler  in  whatever  state  or  condition  it  be  found,  and  whatever 
may  be  the  modifications  and  alterations  it  may  undergo: 
the  second,  secondary,  because  they  are  in  the  bodies  them- 
selves only  the  powers  to  produce  certain  sensations  in  us, 
and  these  powers  appear  to  be  the  result  of  the  primary 
qualities,  as  the  bulk,  figure  and  texture,  of  the  several  ob- 
jects of  sense.  This  distinction  between  the  primary  and 
secondary  qualities  of  body,  which  seems  to  have  been  un- 
noticed by  Aristotle,  was  first  adverted  to  by  Des  Cartes, 
and  afterwards  more  clearly  stated  by  Mr.  Locke. 

There  appears  to  be  a  real  foundation  in  nature  for  this 
distinction.  And  what  is  worthy  of  remark  on  this  point, 
is,  that  in  the  structure  of  language,  which  is  not  framed 
generally  with  a  view  to  philosophical  disquisition,  but  for 
the  purpose  of  ordinary  intercourse;  in  the  case  of  primary 
qualities,  the  names  are  given  to  those  qualities  as  they  ex- 
ist in  their  subject,  without  any  reference  to  our  percep- 
tions; and  in  the  case  of  the  secondary  a  procedure  directly 
the  reverse  is  to  be  observed,  for  here  names  are  assigned  to 


244         Primary  and  Secondary  qualities  of  Bodies. 

our  sensations,  without  any  reference  to  the  qualities  of 
body,  or  to  the  causes  of  our  sensations,  as  Aristotle  would 
say.  Colour,  taste,  sound,  smell,  heat,  cold  are  obviously 
mere  sensations  in  our  minds  produced  by  the  action  of 
outward  objects  upon  the  senses;  while  extension,  figure 
motion,  &c.  have  no  kind  of  dependance  upon  our  percep- 
tions. The  vulgar,  however,  who  do  not  find  it  necessary, 
in  the  daily  transactions  of  life,  nicely  to  discriminate,  soon 
transfer  the  names  of  their  perceptions  to  those  powers  or 
qualities  in  bodies  that  excite  them.  Hence  heat  is  said  to 
be  in  the  fire,  coldness  in  ice,  sugar  is  said  to  be  sweet,  and 
wormwood  bitter;  when  it  is  evident  that  heat,  cold,  sweet- 
ness, bitterness  are  not  qualities  in  bodies,  but  merely  sen- 
sations in  us.  The  controversy,  therefore,  between  the 
philosopher  and  the  vulgar,  when  the  one  strenuously  contends 
that  there  is  no  heat  in  fire,  coldness  in  snow,  sweetness  in 
sugar,  or  bitterness  in  wormwood,  and  the  other  as  strenu- 
ously contends  that  there  are,  is  idle  and  frivolous,  as  it 
turns  merely  upon  the  meaning  of  a  word;  as  for  instance, 
whether  the  terms  heat,  cold,  sweetness,  bitterness,  denote 
our  sensations,  or  the  qualities  of  bodies  that  occasion  them. 
When  the  philosopher  maintains,  that  there  is  no  heat  in  fire, 
he  means  that  the  sensation  of  heat  is  not  in  that  element, 
which  every  one  will  admit;  when  the  vulgar  declare  that  there 
is  heat  in  fire,  they  mean  that  the  quality  is  in  fire  which  ex- 
cites heat  in  us,  which  is  equally  indisputable.  Thus  the 
whole  mystery  is  solved;  the  vulgar  freed  from  maintaining 
an  absurdity;  and  philosophy  relieved  from  the  charge  of  a 
fondness  for  paradox,  and  a  disregard  to  the  dictates  of  com- 
mon sense. 

Such  are  the  doctrines  of  the  schools  in  regard  to  the  pri- 
mary and  secondary  qualities  of  body.  The  only  slight  in- 
accuracy, to  which  I  before  adverted,  with  which  the  doc- 
trine of  Mr.  Locke  on  this  point  appears  to  be  justly  charge- 
able, is  that  of  admitting  a  resemblance  between  our  idea? 


Primary  and  Secondary  qualities  of  Bodies.        245 

and  the  primary  qualities  of  body;  into  which  error  he  must 
have  been  betrayed,  in  the  first  place,  from  the  extreme  dis- 
tinctness of  our  ideas  of  the  primary  qualities  compared  with 
the  secondary;  and  in  the  second  place,  from  an  unwilling- 
ness to  depart  too  far  from  the  dogmas  of  the  school  philoso- 
phy, which  allowed  a  similitude  in  all  cases  whatever. 
Amidst  the  studied  efforts  of  Bishop  Berkeley  to  darken 
counsel  in  metaphysical  science,  and  to  blind  the  eyes  of  his 
readers,  by  raising  a  cloud  of  refinement  and  sophistry,  he 
had  the  merit  of  detecting  this  inaccuracy  in  Mr.  Locke,  al- 
though he  endeavours  to  pervert  it  to  the  purpose  of  scep- 
ticism. This  observation  has  been  made  by  Dr.  Reid,  and 
had  that  writer,  after  stating  at  full  length  the  precise  doc- 
trines of  Mr.  Locke,  been  contented  with  setting  him  right 
in  this  particular,  and  bestowing  the  praise  of  detecting  the 
error  upon  him  who  merited  it,  he  would  never  have  met 
with  any  remonstrance  or  animadversion  from  me  relative  to 
this  matter.  But  can  the  most  enlarged  charity  fail  to  dis- 
cern in  the  following  criticisms,  a  studied  and  reprehensible 
attempt  to  decry  the  merits  and  disparage  the  productions  of 
Mr.  Locke?  "  Let  us  hear,  now,"  says  the  Dr.  "  how  Mr, 
Locke  explains  the  nature  of  those  ideas,  when  applied  to 
primar)^  and  secondary  qualities.  Book  2,  ch.  8,  sect.  7.  "  To 
discover  the  nature  of  our  ideas  the  better,  and  to  discourse 
of  them  intelligibly,  it  will  be  convenient  to  distinguish  them, 
as  they  are  ideas  or  perceptions  in  our  minds,  and  as  they  are 
modifications  of  matter  in  the  bodies  that  cause  such  percep- 
tions in  us;  that  so  we  may  not  think,  fas  perhaps  usually  is 
done)  that  they  are  exactly  the  images  and  resemblances  of 
something  inherent  in  the  subject;  most  of  those  of  sensation 
being  in  the  mind  no  more  the  likeness  of  something  exist- 
ing without  us,  than  the  names  that  stand  for  them,  are  the 
likeness  of  our  ideas,  which,  yet  upon  hearing  they  are  apt 
to  excite  in  us."  Upon  this  passage  of  Mr.  Locke,  DV. 
Reid,  makes  the  following  observations.     "  This  way  of  dis- 


246         Primary  and  Secondary  qualities  of  Bodies, 

tinguishing  a  thing,  first,  as  what  it  is,  and  secondly,  as  what 
it  is  not,  is,  I  apprehend,  a  very  extraordinary  way  of  disco- 
vering its  nature."  Indeed!  And  pray  what  other  way  would 
the  Dr.  prescribe  of  ascertaining  the  nature  of  any  thing, 
than  that  of  determining  in  the  first  place  what  it  is  in  itself, 
and  afterwards  discriminating  it  from  all  other  things  that 
bear  a  resemblance  to  it?  Suppose  I  wish  to  ascertain,  as  far 
as  the  human  mind  is  able,  the  nature  of  man,  must  I  not  as- 
certain the  properties  that  belong  to  him,  and  by  comparing 
him  with  other  animals,  determine  the  distinguishmg  traits 
that  separate  him  from  them?  The  Dr.  proceeds.  "  And  if 
ideas  are  ideas  or  perceptions  in  our  minds,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  modifications  of  matter  in  the  bodies  that  cause  such 
perception  in  us,  it  will  be  no  easy  matter  to  discourse  of 
them  intelligibly."  How  uncandid  and  illiberal  is  this  stric- 
ture! Dr.  Reid  had  before  in  this  same  essay  been  explain- 
ing Mr.  Locke's  doctrine  about  primary  and  secondary  qual- 
ities in  bodies.  He  could  not  have  misconceived  the  mean- 
ing of  this  metaphysician.  He  could  not  have  failed  to  dis- 
cern that,  in  this  part  of  his  essay,  he  had  reference  to  that 
distinction,  and  intended  merely  to  inform  us,  that  when  he 
spoke  of  our  perceptions  of  heat,  cold,  sweet,  bitter,  sound, 
taste,  &c.  as  existing  in  the  bodies  themselves,  he  meant 
merely  those  qualities  in  the  bodies,  which  are  apt  to  excite 
such  sensations  in  us.  Is  not  this  very  intelligible  to  one 
not  determined  to  misconstrue  it,  although,  I  will  admit  not 
as  accurately  expressed  as  it  might  be?  Our  ideas  or  per- 
ceptions, can  never  properly  be  denominated  the  modifica- 
tions of  matter  in  the  bodies  that  cause  such  perceptions  in 
us;  but  what  has  occasional  inaccuracy  and  obscurity  in  the 
manner  of  expression  to  do  with  the  tenor  of  a  man's  doc- 
trine?— In  the  same  strain  the  Dr.  continues  his  animadver- 
sions. The  discovery  of  the  nature  of  our  ideas,  is  carri- 
ed on  in  the  next  section,  in  a  manner  no  less  extraordinary. 
"  Whatsoever  the  mind  perceives  in  itself,  or  is  the   imme- 


Primary  and  Secondary  qualities  of  Bodies.         24T 

diate  object  of  perception,  thought,  or  understanding,  that  I 
call  idea;  and  the  power  to  produce  any  idea  in  our  mind, 
I  call  quality  of  the  subject  wherein  that  idea  is.  Thus  a 
snow-ball  having  the  power  to  produce  in  us  the  ideas  of 
white,  cold  and  round,  the  powers  to  produce  those  ideas  in 
us,  as  they  are  in  the  snow-ball,  I  call  qualities;  and  as  they 
are  sensations  or  perceptions  in  our  understandings,  I  call 
them  ideas;  which  ideas,  if  I  speak  of  them  sometimes  as  in 
things  themselves,  I  would  be  understood  to  mean  those 
qualities  in  the  objects  which  produce  them  in  us."  Here 
Mr.  Locke,  inaccurate  as  his  language  is,  fully  and  unequi- 
vocally explains  his  meaning.  Yet  this  circumstance  does 
not  shield  him  from  the  reprehensions  of  the  Dr.  "  I  believe," 
says  Dr.  Reid,  "  it  will  be  difficult  to  find  two  paragraphs 
in  the  essay  so  unintelligible.  Whether  this  is  to  be  imputed 
-to  the  intractable  nature  of  ideas,  or  to  the  oscitancy  of  the 
author,  with  which  he  is  very  rarely  chargeable,  I  leave  the 
reader  to  judge.  There  are,  indeed,  several  other  passages 
in  the  same  chapter,  in  which  a  like  obscurity  appears;  but 
I  do  not  choose  to  dwell  upon  them." 

I  can  perceive  nothing  difficult  or  unintelligible  in  this  lan- 
guage, except  to  those  who  are  predetermined  to  misappre- 
hend it.  It  is  as  if  the  author  had  said,  when  I  speak  of  heat, 
cold,  sweet,  bitter,  he.  conformably  to  vulgar  notions,  as 
existing  in  things  themselves,  which  I  admit  to  be  only  sen- 
sations or  perceptions  in  us;  I  would  be  understood  in  this 
case  to  refer  to  those  qualities  or  powers  in  objects,  which 
are  calculated  to  excite  such  sensations  in  us.  Can  any  thing 
be  more  clear? 

Again — "Taking  it  for  granted,"  says  the  Dr.  "that  by 
the  ideas  of  primary  and  secondary  qualities,  he  means  the 
sensations  they  excite  in  us,  I  observe  that  it  appears  strange, 
that  a  sensation  should  be  the  idea  of  a  quality  in  body,  to 
which  it  is  acknowledged  to  bear  no  resemblance.  If  the 
sensation  of  sound  be  the  idea  of  that  vibration  of  a  sound- 


248         Primary  and  Secondary  qualities  of  Bodiea. 

ing  body  which  occasions  it,  a  surfeit  may  for  the  same  rea- 
son, be  the  idea  of  a  feast."  An  admirable  argument  in  the 
first  sentence,  and  a  no  less  admirable  similitude  in  the  se- 
cond! Such  comparisons  may  excite  a  smile  at  the  expense 
of  Mr.  Locke,  among  the  ignorant  and  undiscerning;  but  the 
philosophical  world  will  learn  in  time,  duly  to  estimate  such 
unmanly  expedients.  He  might  as  well  have  said,  "  if  the 
sensation  of  sound,  be  the  idea  of  that  vibration  of  a  sound- 
ing body  which  occasions  it,  John  FalstafF  may,  for  the  same 
reason,  be  the  idea  of  a  glass  of  sack."  The  Dr.  thus  con- 
cludes his  account  of  ihe  primary  and  secondary  qualities  in 
bodies.  "  From  the  account  I  have  given  of  the  various  re- 
volutions in  the  opinions  of  philosophers  about  primary  and 
secondary  qualities,  I  think  it  appears  that  all  the  darkness 
and  intricacy,  that  thinking  men  have  found  in  this  subject, 
and  the  errors  they  have  fallen  into,  have  been  owing  to  the 
difficulty  of  distinguishing  clearly  sensation  from  perception, 
what  we  feel  from  what  we  perceive."  Here  we  see  what 
Avonders  are  expected  to  be  wrought  by  this  great  discovery, 
and  how  modestly  these  authors  are  in  the  habit  of  speaking 
of  their  own  pretensions! 


CHAPTER  Vlir. 

Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Reflection. 

The  next  point  in  the  system  of  Mr.  Locke,  to  which  Dr. 
Reid  has  taken  exception,  and  which  it  is  our  purpose  to  vin- 
dicate, is  that  in  which  the  former  maintains,  that  all  our 
simple  ideas  must  be  derived  through  the  inlets  of  sensa- 
tion and  reflection.  By  sensation,  he  means  that  power  of 
the  mind,  by  which  we  receive  perceptions  of  the  qualities 
of  external  bodies;  and  by  reflection  or  consciousness  the  at- 
tention which  the  mind  pays  to  its  own  operations.  Now  it 
is  an  established  maxim  in  philosophy,  that  no  more  causes 
of  things  are  to  be  admitted,  than  are  both  true  and  sufficient 
to  explain  the  phenomena.  Until,  therefore,  we  shall  disco- 
ver some  ideas  which  could  not  have  gained  access  to  the 
mind,  through  the  inlets  of  sensation  and  reflection,  but  must 
evidently  have  had,  in  the  language  of  Mr.  Locke,  another 
postern  to  be  admitted  by;  the  doctrine  of  this  philosopher 
must  be  regarded  as  established.  Let  us  hear  what  Dr. 
Reid  has  to  say  in  refutation  of  it.  In  essay  1,  ch.  3,  of 
Active  Powers,  he  speaks  the  following  language — "  Mr. 
Locke  having  refuted  the  Cartesian  doctrine  of  innate  ideas, 
took  up,  perhaps,  too  rashly,  an  opinion  that  all  our  simple 
ideas  are  got  either  by  sensation  or  by  reflection;  that  is,  by 
our  external  senses  or  by  consciousness  of  the  operations  of 
our  own  minds.  Through  the  whole  of  his  essay  he  shows 
a  fatherly  aftection  to  this  opinion,  and  often  strains  very- 
hard  to  reduce  our  simple  ideas  to  one  of  these  sources  or 
both.  Of  this,  several  instances  might  be  given,  in  his  ac- 
count of  our  idea  of  substance,  of  duration,  of  personal  identi- 
ty.    Omitting  these  as  foreign  to  the  present  subject,  I  shall 

I  i 


250  Simple  iclean  derived  from  Sensation  and  Reflection. 

only  take  notice  of  the  account  which  he  gives  of  our  idea 
of  power."  The  opinion  of  Dr.  Reid  is,  then,  that  our  ideas 
of  substance,  duration,  personal  identity,  and  of  power,  form 
just  exceptions  from  the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke,  as  they 
are  not  to  be  traced  either  to  sensation  or  reflection,  or  to 
both.  Let  us  proceed  to  state  the  ground  of  his  objections, 
and  see  whether  they  be  not  susceptible  of  a  satisfactory  an- 
swer. It  will  be  necessary  to  state  anew  the  doctrine  of  Mr. 
Locke,  that  his  objection  may  be  comprehended,  and  as  Dr. 
Reid  has  given  a  statement  of  that  doctrine,  sufficiently  suc- 
cint  and  accurate,  we  shall  content  ourselves  at  this  time 
with  exhibiting  it  in  his  own  words.  The  sum  of  Mr.  Locke's 
account  of  power,  according  to  the  Dr.,  is  this — "  Observing 
by  our  senses  various  changes  in  objects,  we  collect  a  possi- 
bility in  one  object  to  be  changed,  and  in  another  a  possibili- 
ty of  making  that  change,  and  so  come  by  that  idea  which 
we  call  power.  Thus  we  say,  that  fire  has  a  power  to  melt 
gold,  and  gold  has  a  power  to  be  melted;  the  first  he  calls 
active,  the  second  passive  power.  He  thinks,  however,  that 
we  have  the  most  distinct  notion  of  active  power,  by  attend- 
ing to  the  power  which  we  ourselves  exert,  in  giving  motion 
to  our  bodies  when  at  rest,  or  in  directing  our  thoughts  to 
this  or  the  other  object  as  we  will.  And  this  way  of  form- 
ing the  idea  of  power,  he  attributes  to  reflection,  as  he  refers 
the  former  to  sensation."  On  this  account  of  the  origin  of 
our  idea  of  power,  the  Dr.  makes  two  remarks — "  First, 
whereas  he  distinguishes  power  into  active  and  passive,  I  con- 
ceive passive  power  is  no  power  at  all.  He  means  by  it  the 
possibility  of  being  changed.  To  call  this  power,  seems  to 
be  a  misapplication  of  the  word.  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
met  with  the  phrase  passive  power  in  any  other  good  author. 
Mr.  Locke  seems  to  have  been  unlucky  in  inventing  it;  and 
it  deserves  not  to  be  retained  in  our  language.  Perhaps  he 
was  unwarily  led  into  it,  as  an  opposite  to  active  power.  But 
I  conceive  we  call  certain  powers  active,  to  distinguish  them 


Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Reflection,  251 

from  other  powers,  that  are  called  speculative.  As  all  man- 
kind distinguish  action  from  speculation,  it  is  very  proper  to 
distinguish  the  powers  by  which  those  different  operations 
are  performed,  into  active  and  speculative.  Mr.  Locke,  in- 
deed, acknowledges,  that  active  power  is  more  properly  call- 
ed power;  but  I  see  no  propriety  at  all  in  passive  power:  it 
is  a  powerless  power  and  a  contradiction  in  terms!"  This  ar- 
gument appears  very  plausible  at  first  view,  but  when  nar- 
rowly scrutinized,  is  found  to  contain  a  very  frivolous  objec- 
tion and  evident  fallacy. 

The  distinction  between  active  and  passive  power,  is  as  old 
as  language,  and  recognised  in  its  structure;  and  at  the  same 
time  as  substantial  as  any  of  the  maxims  of  philosophy.  If 
Dr.  Reid  had  recurred  to  the  works  of  Aristotle,  he  would 
have  found  this  distinction  perpetual!}'  adverted  to  in  the  use 
of  his  terms  ^wxf^ic  and  £VT£>^e^eix;  and  in  the  division  which 
he  makes  of  the  soul  into  what  he  elegantly  denominates  the 
passive  intelligent  and  active  intelligent.  What  is  this  but  de- 
termining it  to  possess  passive  and  active  powers?  What  is 
implied  in  the  expression,  the  vis  insita  or  vis  inertise  of 
matter,  so  often  mentioned  in  the  philosophy  of  Newton  and 
his  coadjutors  in  natural  science,  and  upon  which  its  laws  of 
motion  are  considered  to  be  founded,  but  that  matter  has  a 
passive  power  of  receiving  and  retaining  any  impulse  or  mo- 
tion that  may  be  communicated  to  it?  Is  not  the  expression 
vis  inertise,  force  or  power  of  inactivity,  as  much  a  contra- 
diction, as  that  of  passive  power  made  use  of  by  Mr.  Locke, 
and  what  might  as  justly  be  represented  as  a  powerless  pow- 
er? The  fact  is,  philosophy,  in  order  that  she  may  cominu- 
nicate  her  lights  to  mankind,  is  obliged  to  accommodate  her- 
self, in  some  degree  to  their  ordinary  language  and  concep- 
tions. Now  perhaps,  there  is  no  distinction  more  easily  com- 
prehended by  mankind,  as  coming  constantly  under  the  view 
of  all,  than  that  of  passive  and  active  powers.  I  apply  my 
seal  to  the  wax,  and  by  muscular  force  or  active  power  re- 


252  Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Refection. 

siding  in  me,  I  am  able  by  pressing  to  make  an  impression 
upon  it.  The  wax  is  able  not  only  to  receive  the  impression 
but  to  retain  it,  that  is  possesses  the  passive  power  of  doing 
both  these  things.  Water,  although  it  has  power  to  receive 
the  impression,  cannot  retain  it.  Now  can  any  of  our  ideas 
be  more  clear  and  intelligii^le,  than  those  which  we  have  of 
the  power  possessed  by  wax  of  receiving  and  retaining  im- 
pressions made  on  it,  while  water  only  receives  without  hav- 
ing the  power  of  retaining  impressions?  Dr.  Reid  says,  that 
hfc  had  never  seen  this  distinction  made  by  any  good  writer, 
and  considers  it  unfortunate  that  Mr.  Locke  invented  it;  yet 
with  very  little  trouble,  we  think,  he  might  be  referred  to 
many  of  the  best  writers  in  all  languages,  who,  if  they  have 
not  expressed  the  thing  in  the  same  terms,  have  evidently 
adverted  to  it.  We  shall  content  ourselves  in  a  matter  of  no 
great  importance,  with  the  following  sentences  from  Mr. 
Harris's  Hermes — "  As  wax,"  says  he,  "•  would  not  be  ade- 
quate to  the  purpose  of  signature,  if  it  had  not  the  power  to 
retain  as  well  as  to  receive  the  impression;  the  same  holds  of 
the  soul  with  respect  to  sense  and  imaginatioii,  (and  memory, 
he  should  have  said.)  Sense  is  its  receptive  power,  and 
imagination,  (memory)  its  retentive.  Had  it  sense  without 
imagination,  (memory)  it  would  not  be  as  wax,  but  as  waier, 
where  though  all  impressions  be  instantly  made,  yet  as  soon 
as  they  are  made  they  are  lost."  Here  we  find  in  substance, 
though  not  stated  in  so  many  terms,  the  doctrine  of  the  pas- 
sive powers  of  Mr.  Locke,  a  language  intelligible  tu  all.  If 
the  term  power  should  be  exploded,  in  such  cases,  and  that 
of  capacity  or  any  better  one  substituied  in  its  place,  it  would 
not  be  material,  and  might,  as  Mr.  Locke  admits,  be  more 
technically  correct:  but  Dr.  Reid  puts  at  hazard  his  reputa- 
tion as  a  philosopher,  when  he  would  consider  the  term  spe- 
culative, instead  of  passive,  as  opposed  to  active  power. 
Speculation  and  action,  as  used  in  ordinary  conversation  and 
writing,  are  two  different  modes  of  exercising  the   active 


Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Refection.  253 

powers  of  man,  and  as  such  may  justly  be  discriminated  from 
each  other;  but  surely  when  as  metaphysicians  we  would 
search  for  something  opposed  to  active  power  itself,  we 
should  never  expect  to  find  it  in  speculation,  which  implies 
also  the  exercise  of  active  power? 

I  proceed  to  the  next  objection  made  to  the  doctrine  of 
Mr.  Locke,  which  has  more  immediate  relation  to  the  present 
subject  of  my  investigation.  "  I  would  observe,"  continues 
Dr.  Reid,  "  that  Mr.  Locke  seems  to  have  im.posed  upon 
himself,  in  attempting  to  reconcile  this  account  of  the  idea 
of  power  to  his  favourite  doctrine,  that  all  our  simple  ideas 
are  ideas  of  sensation  or  reflection.  There  are  two  steps, 
according  to  his  account,  which  the  mind  takes,  in  forming 
this  idea  of  power;  first,  it  observes  changes  in  things;  and 
secondly,  from  these  changes  it  infers  a  cause  of  them,  and  a 
power  to  produce  them.  If  both  these  steps  are  operations 
of  the  external  senses  or  of  consciousness,  then  the  idea  of 
power  may  be  called  an  idea  of  sensation  or  reflection.  But 
if  either  of  those  steps  requires  the  co-operation  of  other 
powers  of  the  mind,  it  will  follow,  that  the  idea  of  power  can- 
not be  got  by  sensation,  nor  by  reflection,  nor  by  both  to- 
gether- Let  us,  therefore,  consider  each  of  these  steps  by  it- 
self. First,  we  observe  various  changes  in  things.  And  Mr. 
Locke  takes  it  for  granted,  that  changes  in  external  things  are 
observed  by  our  senses,  and  that  changes  in  our  thoughts  are 
observed  by  consciousness. 

I  grant  that  it  may  be  said,  that  changes  in  things  are  ob- 
served by  our  senses,  when  we  do  not  mean  to  exclude  every 
other  faculty  from  a  share  in  this  operation.  And  it  would 
be  ridiculous  to  censure  the  phrase,  when  it  is  so  used  in 
popular  discourse.  But  it  is  necessary  to  Mr.  Locke's  pur- 
pose, that  changes  in  external  things  should  be  observed  by 
the  senses  alone  excluding  every  other  faculty,  because  every 
faculty  that  is  necessary  in  order  to  observe  the  change,  will 
claim  a  share  in  the  origin  of  the  idea  of  power.     Now,  it  55 


254  Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Reflection. 

evident  that  memory  is  no  less  necessary  than  the  senses,  in 
order  to  our  observing  changes  in  external  things,  and  there- 
fore, the  idea  of  power  derived  from  the  changes  observed, 
may  as  justly  be  ascribed  to  memory  as  to  the  senses.  Every 
change  supposes  two  states  of  the  thing  changed.  Both  these^ 
states  mav  be  past,  one  of  theni  at  least  must  be  past;  and 
one  only  can  be  present.  By  our  senses  we  may  observe  the 
present  state  of  the  thing,  but  memory  must  supply  us  with 
the  past;  and  unless  we  remember  the  past  state,  we  can  per- 
ceive no  change.  The  s^me  observation  may  be  applied  to 
consciousness.  The  truth,  therefore,  is,  that  by  the  senses 
alone  without  memory,  or  by  consciousness  alone  without 
memory,  no  ciiange  can  be  observed.  Every  idea,  therefore, 
that  is  derived  from  observing  changes  in  things,  must  have 
its  origin  partly  from  memory,  and  not  from  the  senses  alone, 
nor  from  consciousness  alone,  nor  from  both  together." 

"  The  second  step  made  by  the  mind,  in  forming  this  idea 
of  power  is  this;  from  the  chai  ges  observed  we  collect  a 
cause  of  those  changes,  and  a  power  to  produce  them.  Here 
one  might  ask  Mr.  Locke  whether  it  is  by  our  senses  that 
we  draw  this  conclusion,  or  is  it  by  consciousness?  Is  rea- 
soning the  province  of  the  senses,  or  is  it  the  province  of 
consciousness?  I^  the  senses  can  draw  one  conclusion  from 
premises,  they  may  draw  five  hundred,  and  demonstrate  the 
whole  Elements  of  Euclid." 

We  have  in  this  a  rare  example  of  that  shallow  and  spu- 
rious metaphysic,  which  has  been  supposed  to  supersede  the 
sound  philosophy  of  Locke.  Our  idea  of  power  cannot  be  de- 
rived either  from  sensation  or  reflection;  because  that  idea 
can  be  obtained  only  by  witnessing  various  changes  in  things, 
and  we  cannot  become  acquainted  with  any  changes  in  things 
except  by  the  aid  of  memory.  The  operation  of  the  faculty 
of  memory,  as  well  as  that  of  sensation,  is  necessary  to  our 
obtaining  an  idea  of  power.  This  is  the  reasoning,  and  let 
us  put  its  validity  to  the  test.     I  apply  a  lighted  taper  to  a 


Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Hejfection.  255 

parcel  of  gun-powder,  and,  an  explosion  taking  place,  the 
powder  passes  off  in  smoke.  Now  all  these  changes,  the 
application  of  the  taper,  the  explosion  of  the  powder,  and  the 
passing  otF  in  smoke,  are  produced  instantaneously,  with  the 
rapidity  of  thought  itself,  and.  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 
And  )  et,  are  they  not  sufficient  to  communicate  to  us  an 
idea  of  power,  of  a  power  in  the  first  instance  to  apply  the 
taper,  and  a  power  in  the  fire  to  ignite  the  powder  and  con- 
vert it  into  smoke?  And  yet  is  there  any  one  who  will  as- 
sert that  an  act  of  the  memory  must  intervene  in  tracing  the 
succession  of  these  events?  If  there  be  any  one  disposed  to 
think  so,  he  will  oblige  us  by  settling  the  precise  limits  where 
perception  ceases  and  memory  begins.  No  one  certainly 
would  think  that  he  was  liable  to  the  charge  of  any  inaccu- 
racy in  his  language,  should  he  assert  that  he  had  seen  all 
these  things,  and  it  would  be  the  farthest  from  his  thoughts 
to  imagine  that  his  memory  had  any  thing  to  do  in  the  mat- 
ter. I  see  a  carriage  drawn  by  horses  immediately  passing 
before  my  eyes.  Do  I  not  perceive  by  my  senses  that  the 
horses  pull  that  carriage  along,  and  have  I  not,  at  the  same 
time,  a  full  conviction  derived  from  this  perception,  that 
those  horses  possess  muscular  force,  strength  or  power,  suf- 
ficient to  produce  this  result?  Am  I  reduced  to  the  necessity 
of  asserting  that  the  faculty  of  memory  must  be  exercised, 
in  order  to  my  attaining  this  knowledge?  Cannot  I  have  a 
perception  of  the  two  successive  steps  of  the  horses  without 
the  assistance  of  memory?  This  is  analysing  the  operations  of 
the  mind  with  a  vengeance,  and  frittering  them  down  to  infini- 
tesimals or  mathematical  points.  It  is  not  doubted,  or  denied, 
that,  in  the  more  extended  views  which  we  take  of  things, 
as,  for  instance,  when  the  philosopher  is  tracing  and  compar- 
ing the  present  phenomena  of  nature  with  his  past  experi- 
ence, the  perception  and  memory  co-operate  in  their  exercise 
and  mutually  intermix  their  lights,  the  perception  furnishing 
memory  with  continually  increasing  materials,  and  the  me- 


ii56  Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Refection. 

mory  contributing  to  the  perfection  of  our  perceptive  pow- 
ers: but  when  it  is  asserted,  that  it  is  impossible  to  contem- 
plate any  two  events  or  changes,  that  lake  place  in  nature, 
however  closely  conjoined,  so  as  to  arrive  at  an  idea  of  pow- 
er, without  the  aid  of  memory,  it  is  evidently  a  far-fetched 
refinement,  and  not  supplied  with  sufficient  arguments  to 
sustain  it. 

The  next  part  of  the  objection  to  Mr.  Locke's  account  of 
the  manner  in  which  we  obtain  our  idea  of  power,  is,  that  he 
asserts,  "■  from  the  changes  observed  we  collect  a  cause  o* 
those  changes  and  a  power  to  produce  them.  Here  one 
might  ask  Mr.  Locke,"  continues  the  Dr.,  "  whether  it  is 
by  our  senses  that  we  draw  this  conclusion,  or  is  it  by  con- 
sciousness? is  reasoning  the  pro\  ince  of  the  senses,  or  is  it 
the  province  of  consciousness?  If  the  senses  can  draw  one 
conclusion  from  premises,  they  may  draw  five  hundred,  and 
demonstrate  the  whole  Elements  of  Euclid." 

This  objection  also  exhibits  a  specious  exterior,  but  when 
closely  examined,  is  found  infected  with  a  fatal  fallacy. 

Take  the  example  I  have  before  stated.  Appl)  ing  a  taper 
to  the  powder,  an  explosion  is  produced.  Is  the  slow  and 
operose  effort  of  reason  necessary  in  this  case,  to  inform  us 
that  the  fire  has  power  to  produce  that  change  in  the  pow- 
der? Does  not  a  conviction  of  the  existence  of  such  a  power 
necessarily  accompany  a  perception  of  the  effect?  As  when 
we  look  at  the  taper  and  the  powder,  a  belief  of  their  exist- 
ence in  nature,  necessarily  and  immediately  results  from  a 
perception  of  their  qualities,  so,  as  soon  as  we  discern  by  the 
application  of  one  body  to  the  other,  that  certain  alterations 
in  the  latter  are  effected,  we,  as  immediately,  are  convinced 
that  there  must  inhere  in  the  one  some  force,  power,  or  ener- 
gy, thus  to  operate  upon  the  other.  When  we  perceive  the 
qualities  of  bodies,  we  have  an  irresistible  and  instantaneous 
conviction  of  their  existence;  and  when  we  see  them  act  upon 
and  produce  changes   in  the   state  and  appearance  of  each 


Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Reflection.  257 

other,  we  have  as  instantaneous  and  irresistible  a  conviction, 
that  they  must  possess  powers  to  produce  these  effects.  We 
can  assign  no  reasons  for  these  convictions,  but  that  such  is 
the  law  of  our  constitution.  It  is  the  same  law  afterwards 
which  leads  us,  ^hen  upon  a  uniform  experience,  we  have 
discovered  that  no  effects  are  produced  or  alterations  effect- 
ed throughout  the  system  of  nature,  without  the  operation  of 
some  cause  adequate  to  produce  them,  to  arrive  at  the  gene- 
ral conclusion,  for  every  effect  in  nature  there  must  be  an 
adequate  cause.  Dr.  Reid  seems  to  have  been  betrayed  into 
his  objections  to  Mr.  Locke's  doctrine  in  this  matter,  from 
his  misconceptions  of  his  system.  Supposing  that  Mr.  Locke 
maintained  the  opinion  that  all  our  ideas  are  images  or  re- 
presentatives of  external  things,  in  the  mind;  a  difficulty 
would  be  presented  (and  it  would  undoubtedly,  upon  this 
spheme,  be  a  real  and  insuperable  one)  to  find  any  archetype 
in  nature  for  our  idea  or  image  of  power.  An  image  or  re- 
presentative of  power  in  the  human  mind,  would  undoubt- 
edly be  a  singular  entity  or  non-descript  kind  of  being,  which 
would  puzzle  learned  Sorbonnists  to  ascertain  its  nature  and 
properties.  Upon  this  ground  it  is,  that  Mr.  Hume,  very 
consistently  with  his  svstem,  denies,  that  we  have  any  idea 
of  power,  since  there  is  no  correspondent  impression  to  which 
its  origin  can  be  traced.  But  here  the  Dr.  will  permit  me 
to  remark,  that  it  would  be  a  much  more  fair  and  natural  in- 
ference, to  conclude,  that  since  Mr.  Locke  admits  that  we 
have  ideas  of  power,  duration,  identity  and  others,  which 
cannot  possibly  be  images  of  any  objects  of  human  thought, 
whatever  may  be  his  occasional  language  on  the  subject,  he 
never  could  have  inculcated  the  principles  of  what  has  been 
denominated  the  ideal  theory.  Nothing  appears  to  us  more 
preposterously  absurd,  than  that  reason  or  any  power  of  our 
minds  should  produce  any  simple  idea,  which  has  not  gain- 
ed admittance  either  through  sensation  or  reflection.  We 
might  as  well  imagine  that  reason  should  give  ideas   of  co- 

Kk 


258  ^Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  aud  Reflection. 

lour  to  the  blind,  or  those  of  sound  to  the  deaf.  The  pro- 
vince of  our  understandings  in  such  cases  is  evidently  to  ar- 
range, combine  and  model  into  an  endless  variety  of  forms 
those  simple  ideas  it  has  received  by  the  inlets  beforemention- 
cd,  but  can  no  more  fabricate  those  ideas  for  its  use,  than  the 
workman  can  fabricate  new  matter  out  of  which  to  erect  hi» 
building,  and  dispense  with  the  materials  with  which  Ciod  has 
furnished  him.  "  It  is  not  in  the  power,"  says  Mr.  Locke, 
"  of  the  most  exalted  wit  or  enlarged  understanding,  by  any 
quickness  or  varietv  of  thoughts  to  invent  or  frame  one  new 
simple  idea  in  the  mind,  not  taken  in  by  the  ways  before 
mentioned;  nor  can  any  force  of  the  understanding  destroy 
those  that  are  there.  The  dominion  of  man  in  this  little 
world  of  his  own  understanding,  being  much-what  the  same 
as  it  is  in  the  great  world  of  visible  things;  wherein  his  pow- 
er, however  managed  by  art  and  skill,  reaches  no  farther  than 
to  compound  and  divide  the  materials  that  are  made  to  his 
hand;  but  cm  do  nothing  towards  the  making  the  least 
particle  of  new  matter,  or  destroying  one  atom  of  what  is 
already  in  being.  The  same  inability  will  every  one  find 
in  himself,  who  should  go  about  to  fashion  in  his  under- 
standing any  simple  idea  not  received  in  by  his  senses,  from 
external  objects:  or  by  reflection,  from  the  operations  of  his 
own  mind  about  them.  I  would  liave  any  one  try  to  fancy 
any  taste,  which  had  never  affected  his  palate,  or  frame  the 
idea  of  a  scent,  he  had  never  smelt;  and  when  he  can  do 
this,  I  will  conclude,  that  a  blind  man  hath  ideas  of  colours, 
and  a  deaf  man  true,  distinct  notions  of  sound."* 

*  The  work  of  Mr.  Locke  abounds  with  passages  of  this  kind,  which 
are,  undoubtedly  amonp:  the  finest  specimens  of  fine  writing-.  But  Mr. 
Stewart,  it  seems,  is  entirely  insensible  of  beauties  of  this  nature.  In  a 
small  tract  which  has  just  come  to  this  country,  I  find  him  asserting  "  that 
with  respect  to  Mr.  Locke's  style,  it  may  further  be  observed,  that  it  re- 
sembles that  of  a  well  educated  and  well  informed  man.  rather  than  of  a 
reeluse  student,  who  had  made  an  object  of  the  art  of  composition.  It  every 


Simple  ideas  derived  from  Sensation  and  Reflection.  259 

Thus  it  appears  that  Mr.  Locke's  doctrine,  that  our  idea 
•f  power  is  derived  from  sensation  and  reflection,  is  not 
justly  liable  to  exception.  It  may  be  proper  to  add  that  he 
thinks  our  clearest  ideas  of  active  power,  are  derived  from 
reflection,  or  that  attention,  which  we  pay  to  our  own  volun- 
tary exertions  in  producing  effects. 

where  abounds  with  colloquial  expressions,  which  he  had  probably  caught 
by  the  ear  from  those  whom  he  considered  as  models  of  good  conversation; 
and  hence  it  now  seems  somewhat  antiquated,  and  not  altos^ether  suited  to 
the  dignity  of  the  subject."  Such  is  the  opinion  of  the  Professor  about  IVIr. 
Locke's  style.  Let  us  contrast  with  this,  the  sentiments  of  that  judicious 
critic  and  excellent  writer,  Dr.  Blair.     After  many  encomiums  of  Mr. 
Locke,  scattered  through  his  lectures,  he  says,  "  In  English,  Mr.  Locke's 
celebrated  Treatise  concerning  Human  Understanding,  may  be  pointed 
out  as  a  model  of  thegreatest  clearness  and  distinctness  of  the  philosophical 
style."  The  truth  is,  that  it  is  that  kind  of  style,  which  is  precisely  suited  to 
philosophical  subjects.    Such  subjects  do  not  admit  of  that  |)omp  of  diction 
and  decoration  of  imagery,  which  might  be  allowed  in  orations  and  popular 
addresses  of  any  kind.  But  we  should  augur  ill  of  the  taste  of  any  peonle, 
who  should  consider  his  style  as  "  too  colloquial,"  or  "  antiquated,"  or 
"  unsuited  to  the  dignity  of  the  subject."     When  a  style  like  that  of  Mr. 
Locke,  characterised  by  such  genuine  simplicity  and  unaffected  graces, 
shall  be  generally  underrated  by  a  people,  it  would  require  no  uncommon 
penetration  or  extraordinary  pretensions  to  the  prophetic  spirit,  to  pre- 
dict that  their  taste  and  letters  were  declining.  When  instead  of  the  neat- 
ness and  perspicuity  of  Mr.  Locke's  phraseology,  1  see  a  writer  glittering 
with  such  expressions  as  tiiese;  "  Elements  of  the  philosophy  of  the  Hu- 
man Mind,"  "  Fundamental  Laws  of  Human  Belief,"  "  Primary  Elements 
of  Human  Reason,"  "  Analysis  of  Imagination,"  "  Generalization  of  a 
Fact,"  &:c.  fee.     I  involuntarily  turn  away  my  eyes,  as  from  objects  too 
dazzling  bright  for  my  feeble  vision.  Others  may  annex  distinct  ideas  to  all 
such  terms,  and  may  find  a  pleasure  in  this  kind  of  writing;  but  I  must  con- 
fess, that  my  mind  is  so  singularly  formed,  and  so  dull  of  comprehension, 
as  to  be  unable  either  distinctly  to  understand  it,  or  to  relish  its  beauty. 
Let  those  who  can,  derive  gratification  and  instruction  too,  provided  this 
be  possible,  from  the  perusal  of  such  writers,  but  1  must  be  allowed  to 
avow,  without  subjecting  myself  to  the  imputation  of  un'iervaluing  the 
judgments  of  others,  tliat  they  do  not  suit  my  taste  or  strike  my  fancy. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Of  Duration. 

Passing  over  the  preliminary  observations,  with  which 
Dr.  Reid  commences  his  strictures  upon  i\tr.  Locke's  doc- 
trine about  duration,  I  shall  proceed  immediately  to  the  con- 
sideration of  che  objections  themselves.  The  idea  we  have 
of  duration,  is  thought  also  to  be  one  of  those  simple  ideas, 
which  could  have  been  obtained  neither  by  sensation  nor  re- 
flection. "  Reflection,"  says  Mr.  Locke,  "  upon  the  train  of 
ideas,  which  appear  one  after  another  in  our  minds,  is  that 
which  furnishes  us  with  the  idea  of  succession;  and  the  dis- 
tance between  any  two  parts  of  that  succession,  is  that  we 
call  duration,"  Upon  this  account  so  natural  and  simple, 
Dr.  Reid  makes  the  following  remarks — "  If  it  be  meant 
that  the  idea  of  succession  is  prior  to  that  of  duration,  either 
in  time  or  the  order  of  nature,  this  I  think,  is  impossible; 
because  succession,  as  Dr.  Price  justly  observes,  presuppo- 
ses duration,  and  can  in  no  sense  be  prior  to  it;  and  there- 
fore, it  would  be  more  proper  to  derive  the  idea  of  succes- 
sion from  that  of  duration.  But  how  do  we  get  the  idea^  of 
succession?  It  is,  says  he,  by  reflecting  upon  the  train  of 
ideas,  which  appear  one  after  another  in  our  minds.  Re- 
flecting upon  the  train  of  ideas,  can  be  nothing  but  remem- 
bering it,  and  giving  attention  to  what  our  memory  testifies 
concerning  it;  for  if  we  did  not  remember  it,  we  could  not 
have  a  thought  about  it."  Accordingly,  the  Dr.  maintains, 
in  opposition  to  Mr.  Locke's  theory,  that  our  notion  of  du- 
ration is  to  be  traced  only  to  the  exercise  of  memory. 


262  Of  Duration, 

In  regard  to  the  objection  of  Dr.  Price,  which  appears  to 
be  concurred  in  by  Dr.  Reid,  who  is  certainly  ready  enough 
on  all  occasions,  to  avail  himself  of  any  thing  that  forms  an 
exception  to  the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke;  1  have  to  remark 
to  both  of  them,  that  it  would  always  be   worth  while,  fully 
to  study  and  understand  an  author,  before  we  undertake  to 
animadvert  upon  his  principles.     Mr.  Locke  had  more  tho- 
roughly studied   and    understood  these  matters,  than  proba- 
bly any  other  man  who  ever  lived,  certainly  than  any  author 
whose  works  have  been  conveyed  to   us.      In   reference  to 
Price's  opinion,  that  the  idea  of  succession  cannot  be  prior 
to  that  of  duration,  either  in  time  or  the  order  of  nature,  be- 
cause succession  presupposes   duration,  and  can  in  no  sense 
be  prior  to  it;  I  observe  that  I  admit  the  premises,  as  I  am 
sure  would  Mr.  Locke,  without  allowing  the  conclusion.    It 
is  true,  that  duration  is  prior   in  time,  and  the  order  of  na- 
ture to  succession,  but  not  in  the  order  of  our  ideas.     It  was 
of  the  origin  and  order  o(  ideas,  that  Mr.  Locke  was  speak- 
ing, and  not  of  the  order  of  time  or  nature,  and  to  this   dis- 
tinction,  the  Drs.  do  not  seem  to  have  adverted.     And  yet 
this  distinction  is  all  important,  as  to  the  decision  of  the  pre- 
sent point.     Undoubtedly,  between  one   event  and  the  next 
that  succeeds,  which  gives   us   an  idea  of  succession,   some 
time,  however  small  it  may  be,  must   intervene,  and   dura- 
tion, therefore,  in  the  order  of  nature  must  precede  succession. 
But  not    so  in  the  order  of  our    perceptions.      Mr.  Locke 
has  proved,  I  think,  with  unanswerable  force  of  argument, 
that  we  are  rendered  sensible  of  the   existence  and  progress 
of  time,  only  by  the  train  of  ideas  that  succeed  each  other  in 
our  minds,  as  appears  from  the  phenomena  of  a  reverie,  and 
a  deliquium  in  which  we  are  unconscious  of  the  lapse  of  time, 
and  a  sound  sleep  in  which  the  two  points  of  duration,  in 
which  we  fall  into  it  and  awake,  appear  to  touch  each  other; 
and  moreover,  that  if  it  were  possible  for  us,  during  any 


Of  Duration,  263 

length  of  time,  to  keep  the  same  idea  perpetually  in  view  of 
the  mind,  we  should  in  tliat  case  be  utterly  unconscious  that 
any  such  time  was  passing.    Those  who  are   accustomed  to 
intense  thought  or  application  of  the  mind  to  study  or  busi- 
nebS,  can  easily  enter  into  this  view  of  the  subject.    The  lit- 
tle they  are  able  to  judge,   concerning  the   lapse  of  time  in 
such  cases,  when  a  few  thoughts  occupy  and    engross  their 
whole  attention,  can  lead  them  easily  to  conceive,  that  could 
their  attention   possibly  be  fixed   on  one   idea   only,  all  con- 
sciousness of  its  course  would  be  at  an  end.     Now,  if  this 
doctrine  be  just,  and  it  never  has  been  and  never  can  be  re- 
futfd,  suppose  a  man  to  begin   for   the   first  time   to  think. 
We   say,   that   while  the  first  idea  occupied  his  mind,  how- 
ever great  tie  duration  in  which  it  might  subsist  there,   he 
would  have  no  notion  of  the  progress  of  time,  until  another 
made  its  appearance  upon  the  stage,  and  that  was  followed 
by  a  third  &c,,  which  would  give  him  the  idea  of  succession, 
and  in  immediate  connection  with  it,  marking  the  intervals 
between   his   ideas,   that  of  duration.     Until,  therefore,  we 
observed  the  train  of  our  ideas,  as  they  pass  and  repass  in 
the  mind,  we  could  have  no  idea  of  time,   and   our  idea  of 
succession,  would  be  prior  to  that  of  duration,  though  in  the 
®rder  or  course  of  nature,  duration  must  precede  succession. 
But  we    have   another   difficulty  to  contend  with,  besides 
that  of  Dr.  Price,  with  which   this   doctrine  of  Mr.    Locke 
has  been  embarrassed,  for  whose  origin   ve   are,  I  believe, 
entirelv  indebted  to  Dr.  Reid.     The  Dr.  seems  so  resolute- 
ly predetermined   to   put    Mr.    Locke  in  the  wrong,  that  he 
disputes  with  him  every  inch  of  ground.     Mr.  Locke  main- 
tains, that  our  idea  of  duration,  like  all  our  other  simple  ideas, 
is  derived  from  reflecting  upon  the  train  of  our  ideas,  and 
assigns  U)  memory  no  part  of  the  task  of  giving  us  this  no- 
tion; Dr.  Reid  maintains,  that  it  is  to  be  ascribed  exclusive- 
ly to  memor) ,  and  perception  has  nothing  to  do  in  the  mat- 
ter.    It  seems  strange  to  make  memory,  whose  office  is  to 


264  Of  Duration. 

recall  events  and  ideas  that  have  passed,  the  sole  agent  in 
giving  us  an  idea  of  time  and  duration,  as  if  our  perceptions 
were  in  the  interim  entirely  quiescent;  and  the  opinion  is 
rendered  preposterously  absurd,  when  it  is  recollected,  that 
all  that  the  power  of  memory  can  enable  us  to  do,  is  to  re- 
vive those  perceptions,  which  had  been  previously  excited, 
or  in  other  words,  recollect  what  was  previovsly  known. 
How  can  memory  communicate  to  mankind  any  intelligence, 
which  they  had  not  before  received  by  perception,  when  its 
sole  province  is  to  renew  that  intelligence!  But  in  order,  if 
possible,  to  bring  to  a  conclusion  this  great  controversy  be- 
tween two  such  high  authorities,  I  must  again  beg  Dr.  Reid 
to  ascertain  the  exact  limits,  where  perception  ceases  and 
memory  begins.  Is  perception  to  be  limited  to  a  second,  to 
a  single  inhalation  of  the  breath,  a  pulsation  of  the  heart, 
or  the  twinkling  of  an  eye?  Until  this  is  ascertained,  I  am 
afraid  a  captious  philosophy  may  raise  endless  doubts  in  the 
case.  We  folks  of  vulgar  apprehension,  are  apt  to  suppose 
that  things  which  take  place  at  the  present  time,  are  objects 
of  perception.  As  for  instance,  at  this  time,  the  ideas  of 
Bacon,  and  his  method  of  induction;  of  Newton,  who  appli- 
ed it  to  natural  philosophy;  and  Locke,  who  carried  it  also 
into  the  science  of  mind,  may  pass  rapidly  before  my  view. 
I  avow  that  I  perceive  these  ideas  as  passing  in  my  mind 
at  the  present.  But  Dr.  Reid  complains,  that  this  mode  of 
expression  is  inaccurate  and  unphilosophical.  "  It  may  be 
observed,"  says  he,  "  that  if  we  speak  strictly  and  philoso- 
phically, no  kind  of  succession  can  be  an  object  either  of  the 
senses,  or  of  consciousness;  because  the  operations  of  both 
are  confined  to  the  present  point  of  time,  and  there  can  be 
no  succession  in  a  point  of  time;  and  on  that  account,  the 
motion  of  a  body  which  is  a  successive  change  of  place, 
could  not  be  observed  by  the  senses  alone,  without  the  aid 
of  memory."  This  to  be  sure,  is  a  sublime  flight  of  philo- 
sophy, and  much  beyond  the  reach  of  Mr.  Locke,  and  it  is 


Of  Duration.  26ai 

not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  he  was  too  dull  to  attain  to  it. 
The  very  act  of  perception  itself,  one  would  think  takes  up 
more  than  the  Dr.'s  single  point  of  time.  I  take  up  a  cloth 
of  beautiful  green,  and  struck  with  its  appearance,  I  prolong 
my  observation  of  its  quality,  am  I  not  in  this  case  engaged 
in  an  act  of  perception?  This  may  be  called,  indeed,  a  doc- 
trine entirely  new.  "  But,"  says  the  Dr.  "  the  motion  of  a 
body,  which  is  a  successive  change  of  place,  could  not  be 
observed  by  the  senses  alone,  without  the  aid  of  memory." 
Indeed!  This  is  extraordinary  intelligence.  I  cannot  then, 
see  that  carriage  in  motion  before  me,  and  should  not  say 
that  r  perceive  it  in  motion,  but  I  remember  it  in  motion. 
This  would  be  a  change  in  terms,  worthy  of  all  remark  and 
consideration.  What  is  understood  by  that  point  of  time,  to 
which  the  operation  of  sense  and  consciousness  are  thus  con- 
fined? Cannot  I  say,  that  I  perceived  that  lightning  pass 
from  the  clouds  to  the  earth?  Must  memory  here  lend  her 
aid  also?  Is  not  the  time  taken  during  a  flash  of  lightning, 
short  enough  to  form  the  Dr.'s  point  of  time;  and  yet  1  think 
it  demonstrable,  that  unless  there  was  a  succession  of  ideas 
in  our  minds  during  the  flash,  we  should  not  perceive  that 
it  passed  through  any  portion  of  space.  The  Dr.  proceeds 
— "  As  this  observation  seems  to  contradict  the  common 
sense,  and  common  language  of  mankind,  when  they  affirm 
that  they  see  a  body  move,  and  hold  motion  to  be  an  object 
of  the  senses,  it  is  proper  to  take  notice,  that  this  contradic- 
tion between  the  philosopher  and  the  vulgar,  is  apparent  on- 
ly, and  not  real.  It  arises  from  this,  that  philosophers  and 
the  vulgar,  differ  in  the  meaning  they  put  upon  what  is  call- 
ed the  present  time,  and  are  thereby  led  to  make  a  different 
limit  between  sense  and  memory.  Philosophers  give  the 
name  of  the  present,  to  that  indivisible  point  of  time,  which 
divides  the  future  from  the  past."  Here  then,  we  have  arrived 
at  the  meaning  of  the  Dr.'s  single  point  of  time,  and  the  diffi- 
culty is  removed,  and  the  whole  mystery  solved.  He  means,  that 

L  1 


266  Of  Duration^ 

sensation  and  consciousness  are  confined  to  an  indivisible  point 
of  time,  which  is  time  present,  philosophically  considered.  We 
have  heard  it  maintained,  that  matter  is  infinitely  divisible,  al- 
though some  have  thought,  that  by  the  time  it  was  infinitely 
divided,  it  would  be  very  nearly  reduced  to  nothing;  and  we 
presume  the  Dr.  must  consider  time,  as  susceptible  of  as 
much  division  as  matter.  An  indivisible  point  of  time, 
therefore,  must  be  a  point  of  time  wonderfully  small,  so 
small,  that  whatever  may  be  its  adaptation  to  the  operations 
of  beings  superior  to  us,  it  certainly  seems  totally  unsuited 
to  the  nature  of  such  finite  creatures  as  we  are.  We  are 
assured,  that  we  could  .neither  move  a  limb,  draw  a  single 
breath,  twinkle  an  eye,  or  perform  a  single  operation,  bodi- 
ly, mental,  or  mixed  in  it.  If  this  be  the  Dr.'s  notion  of  the 
present  time,  and  the  philosophical  meaning  of  the  word,  we 
do  not  wonder  that  he  maintains,  that  we  cannot  have  per- 
ceptions of  duration,  time,  motion,  &c.  without  the  aid  of 
memory.  The  only  matter  of  surprise  is,  that  he  does  not 
maintain,  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  sensation  and  con- 
sciousness at  all;  since  he  affirms  that  they  are  confined  to  an 
indivisible  point  of  time,  and  we  are  sure  there  would  not  in 
such  an  inconceivable  instant,  be  time  for  them  to  creep  in. 
Such  are  the  ridiculous  puerilities  and  follies,  that  have  been 
palmed  upon  the  learned  world,  as  profound  speculations  of 
science,  and  what  is  still  more  astonishing,  which  the  learn- 
ed world  has  appeared  willing  to  regard  in  that  light! 

I  find  on  this  topick,  Dr.  Reid's  principles  of  grammar, 
no  better  than  those  of  his  metaphysics.  "  As  the  purposes 
of  conversation,  make  it  convenient  to  extend  what  is  called 
the  present,  the  same  reason  leads  men  to  extend  the  pro- 
vince of  sense,  and  to  carry  its  limits  as  far  back  as  they 
carry  the  present.  Thus  a  man  may  say,  I  saw  such  a  per- 
son just  now;  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  find  fault  with  this 
way  of  speaking,  because  it  is  authorised  by  custom,  and  has 
a  distinct  meaning.     But  if  we  speak  philosophically,  the 


Of  Duration.  26? 

senses  do  not  testify  what  we  saw,  but  only  what  we  see; 
what  I  saw  last  moment,  I  consider  as  the  testimony  of 
sense,  though  it  is  now  only  the  testimony  of  memory." 
"When  I  say,  I  saw  such  a  person  just  now,  does  this  expres- 
sion imply,  that  my  senses  now  testify  what  I  saw;  and  not 
rather  that  my  memory  testifies,  what  my  senses  did,  or  ra- 
ther enabled  me  to  do  on  a  former  occasion?  There  is  noth- 
ing unphilosophical  or  inconsistent  with  the  soundest  and 
deepest  logic  in  the  structure  of  language  in  this  respect.  It 
would  seem  impossible  to  misunderstand  it. 

Let  us  now  hear  the  Dr.'s  argument  in  opposition  to  Mr. 
Locke. ''  Having  considered  the  account  given  by  Mr.  Locke 
of  the  idea  of  succession,  we  shall  next  consider  how,  from 
the  idea  of  succession,  he  derives  the  idea  of  duration. 
The  distance,"  he  says,  "  between  any  two  parts  of  that 
succession,  or  between  the  appearance  of  any  two  ideas  in 
our  minds,  is  what  we  call  duration."  To  conceive  this  the 
more  distinctly,  let  us  call  the  distance  between  an  idea,  and 
that  which  immediately  succeeds  it,  one  element  of  duration; 
the  distance  between  an  idea,  and  the  second  that  succeeds 
it,  two  elements,  and  so  on.  If  ten  such  elements  make  du- 
ration, then  one  must  make  duration,  otherwise  duration 
must  be  made  up  of  parts  that  have  no  duration,  which  is 
impossible.  I  conclude,  therefore,  that  there  must  be  dura- 
tion in  every  single  interval  or  element,  of  which  the  whole 
duration  is  made  up.  Now  it  must  be  observed,  that  in  these 
elements  of  duration,  or  single  intervals  of  successive  ideas, 
there  is  no  succession  of  ideas,  yet  we  must  conceive  them 
to  have  duration;  whence  we  may  conclude  with  certainty, 
that  there  is  a  conception  of  duration,  where  there  is  no  suc- 
cession of  ideas  in  the  mind."  This  argument  is  exhibited 
with  all  the  formality  and  display  of  a  mathematical  demon- 
stration, and  evidently  appears  to  be  regarded  as  conclusive. 
The  Dr.  would  probably  have  been  astonished  to  be  told, 
that  it  has  not  the  smallest  force  in  invalidating  the  princi- 


268  Of  Duration. 

pies  of  Mr.  Locke.     The  whole  difficulty  is  solved,  and  the 
fallacy  of  the  argument  exposed,  by  simply  adverting  to  the 
distinction  before  made,   between  the  order  of  nature   and 
the  order  of  our  ideas.     Nothing  can  be  more  certain,  than 
the  first  proposition  of  the  Dr.,  that  supposing  the  distance 
or  intervals  between  our  successive  ideas  to  be  considered 
as  single  elements,  the  whole  of  which,  when  put  together, 
constitute  duration,  it  is  evident,  there  must  be  duration  in 
every  single  interval  or  element,  of  which   the  whole  dura- 
tion is  made  up.      Vv  e  will  admit,  moreover,  "  that  in  these 
elements  of  duration,  or  single  intervals  of  successive  ideas, 
there  is  no  succession  of  ideas,   and   yet  we  must  conceive 
them  to  have  duration."     But,   when  fiom  these   premises 
the  Dr.  would  draw  the  conclusion,  that   there  is  a  concep- 
tion of  duration,  where  there  is  no  succession  of  ideas  in  the 
niind,  we  would  inform  him  that  he  is  utterly  wrong.     He 
has  proved  with  Dr.  Price,  that  duration  in  every  case  must 
precede   succession   in  the  order  of  nature,  and  that  there 
must  be  conceived  some  interval  or  element  of  duration,  be- 
tween  every   two  successive    ideas    or    perceptions   of   the 
mind;  but  he  has  not   reached   by  his  syllogism,  the  very 
point  in  controversy,  which  is  to  show  that  we  should  have 
a  perception  or  idea  of  that  duration,  even  while  it  was  pas- 
sing, previous  to  a  succession  of  ideas  taking  place  in  the 
mind.     Mr.  Locke's  principles  do  not  lead  us  to  deny,  that 
time  must  be  passing  in  the  intervals  of  our  ideas,  but  that 
had  it  not  been  for  the  succession  of   our  ideas,  we  should 
have  had  no  inlormation  about  it.     Afterwards,  indeed,  in 
the  progress  ot  human  perceptions  and  improvements,  when 
by  the  succession  of  ideas  in  our  minds,  we  have  obtained 
conce|;iions  of  succession,  duration,  time,  we  learn  to  mea- 
sure them  by  various  standards,  and  to  ascertain  their  progress, 
even  when  we  ourselves  are  insensible  of  it,  as  by  the  revo- 
lutions ot  the  heavenlj  bodies,  and  the  various  instruments 
of  motion. 


«  Of  Duration.  269 

I  shall  conclude  the  subject  of  duration  by  considering 
some  objections  of  Dr.  Reid,  to  the  consequences  or  con- 
clusions which  Mr.  Locke  has  drawn  from  the  foregoing 
account  of  duration,  which  he  thinks  may  serve  as  a  touch- 
stone to  discover  how  far  it  is  genuine,  "  One  conclusion, 
is,"  says  the  Dr.  "■  that  if  it  were  possible  for  a  waking  man 
to  keep  only  one  idea  in  his  mind  without  variation  or  the  suc- 
cession of  others,  he  would  have  no  perception  of  duration 
at  all;  and  the  moment  he  began  to  have  this  idea  would 
seem  to  have  no  distance  from  the  moment  he  ceased  to 
have  it.  Now  that  one  idea  should  seem  to  have  no  dura- 
tion, and  that  a  multiplication  of  that  no  duration,  should 
seem  to  have  d\u'ation,  appears  to  me  as  impossible  as  that 
the  multiplication  of  nothing  should  produce  something." 
Here  the  Dr.  still  errs  by  confining  himself  to  a  kind  of 
mathematical  calculation,  instead  of  recollecting  that  he  is 
solving  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind.  There  can  be 
no  greater  absurdity  than  to  assert,  that  a  multiplication  of 
nothings  or  no  durations  should  produce  somethings  or  du- 
ration. But  surely  there  can  be  no  absurdity  in  supposing 
that  such  mav  be  the  laws  of  the  human  mind,  that  one  por- 
tion of  duration  might  pass  by  unnoticed  by  it,  until  some 
circumstance  should  occur,  as  for  instance  the  succession  of 
another  perception  to  call  its  attention  to  it.  The  fallacy 
here,  therefore,  a  third  time  turns  upon  not  separating  in  our 
conceptions,  the  phenomena  of  our  ideas  from  those  which 
are  exhibited  in  that  system  of  nature  from  which  they  are 
derived. 

"  Another  conclusion,"  proceeds  Dr.  Reid,  "  which  the 
author  draws  from  his  theory,  is,  thatthesame  period  of  dura- 
tion appears  long  to  us  when  the  succession  of  ideas  in  our 
mind  is  quick,  and  short  when  the  succession  is  slow. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  but  the  same  length  of  duration  ap- 
pears in  some  circumstances  much  longer  than  in  others;  the 
time  appears  long  when  a  man  is  impatient  under  any  pain 


270  Of  Duration, 

or  distress,  or  when  he  is   eager  in  the  expectation  of  some 
happiness.     On  the  other  hand,  when  he  is  pleased  and  hap- 
py in  agreeable  conversation,  or  delighted  with  a  variety  of 
agreeable  objects  that   strike   his  senses  or   his  imagination, 
time  flies    away,    and    appears    short.     According  to    Mr. 
Locke's  theory,  in  the    first  of  these  cases,  the  succession  of 
ideas  is  very  quick,  and  in  the  last,  very  slow.      I  am  rather 
inclined  to  think  that  the  very  contrary  is  the  truth.     When 
a   man   is   racked   with  pain,  or  with   expectation,   he  can 
hardly  think  of  any  thing  but  his  distress;  and  the  more  his 
mind  is  occupied  by  this  sole  object,  the  longer  the  time  ap- 
pears.    On   the    other   hand   when    he   is  entertained    with 
cheerful  musick,  with  lively   conversation,  and  brisk   sallies 
of  wit,  there  seems  to   be  the  quickest  succession   of  ideas, 
but  the  time  appears    shortest."     If  but    a  small    portion  of 
that  attention,   which   Dr.   Reid  has  devoted  to  unfounded 
animadversions  upon  the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke,  had  been 
directed  to  the  illustration   and   enforcement   of  them,  how 
much  more  would  moral  and  metaphysical  science  be  indebt- 
ed to  him!     But  as   much  eclat   would  not  have  followed 
from  the  humble    attempt    to   confirm,      establish    and  ex- 
tend the  principles  of  another,  as  in  broaching  a  new  system, 
or  endeavouring  to  subvert  an  old  one.  This  prurient  propen- 
sity in  writers  to  become  the  founders  of  new  systems,  has 
been  of  incalculable  detriment  to  science.  To  an  author  whose 
purpose  is  to  rear  a  reputation  to  himself,  of  what  importance 
is  it,  that  his  predecessor  has  been  the  faithful  interpreter  of 
nature,  and  successfully  discovered  the  truth?    If  more  fame 
is  to  be  attained  by  denying  the  truth  of  his  doctrines  than 
by  admitting  them,  they  are  controverted  without  hesitation. 
In  the  passage  just  quoted,  the  doctrine  of  Mr.  Locke,  when 
rightly  understood  or  explained,  is  not  at  variance  with  Dr. 
Reid's,  and  certainly  is  abundantly  confirmed  by  fact  and  our 
daily  experience.     The  simple  assertion  of  Mr.  Locke,  is, 
that  as  a  general  proposition  it  is  true,  that  the  same  period 


Of  Duration,  271 

of  duration  appears  long  to  us  when  the  succession  of  ideas 
in  our  mind  is  quick,  and  short,  when  the  succession  is 
slow;  but  he  does  not  assert  that  this  law  is  subject  to  no  ex- 
ceptions. 

From  the  extreme  thinness  and  subtilty  of  the  subject,  it 
is  very  difficult  to  ascertain  any  general  laws  that  serve  to 
regulate  the  action  of  the  human  mind,  and  to  the  operation 
of  which  all  the  phenomena  may  be  referred.  Exceptions 
to  these  rules  must  be  expected  to  recur;  but  these,  instead 
of  vacating  or  annulling  the  law,  only  serve  to  confirm  its  ex- 
istence. My  daily  experience  convinces  me  of  the  truth  ofthe 
general  maxim  prescribed  on  the  subject  of  our  perceptions  of 
succession  and  duration;  that  the  more  rapid  the  succession  of 
ideas,  the  longer  does  time  appear,  and  the  more  slow,  that 
succession  the  shorter.  If  I  spend  the  morning  in  my  study 
engaged  in  close  attention  of  the  mind,  to  some  interesting 
subject,  I  am  scarcely  sensible  of  the  progress  of  time,  inso- 
much that  I  am  often  surprised  to  find  the  hour  of  dinner 
arrived;  but  if  the  same  time  be  devoted  to  making  or  re- 
turning visits  in  the  city,  the  change  of  scene,  and  the  varie- 
ty of  ideas  excited  by  meeting  with  different  characters,  and 
entering  into  various  and  desultory  conversations,  makes  the 
morning  assume  its  natural  dimensions.  If  I  set  off  upon  a 
journey,  the  diversity  of  objects  presented  to  my  view,  and 
the  rapid  train  of  ideas,  which  are  awakened  by  riding 
through  a  cultivated  country,  and  having  picturesque  scene- 
ry displayed  to  my  view,  make  time  seem  to  rest  upon  his 
wing,  and  I  in  one  day,  appear  to  have  gone  through  the 
lapse  of  several.  I  take  it,  therefore,  that  the  general  max- 
im of  Mr.  Locke,  if  properly  interpreted,  is  irrefragably  true; 
that,  cseteris  paribus,  the  more  rapid  the  succession  of  our 
ideas,  the  slower  appears  the  piogress  of  time,  and  vice  versa. 
I  say  cseteris  paribus,  because  it  implies  that  the  mind  be  in 
the  same  state  or  condition  as  to  tranquillity  or  disturbance, 
happiness  or  misery,  indifference   or  strong  desire,  pain  or 


272  Of  Duration. 

pleasure,  at  each  time  in  which  the  experiment  13  made. 
"When  we  are  under  the  influence  of  any  strong  passion,  or 
disquieted  by  extreme  pain,  then  this  general  law  of  our  na- 
ture is  contravened  by  the  opposing  or  preponderating  influ- 
ence of  another  part  of  our  moral  constitution.  It  is  not, 
therefore,  true,  as  asserted  by  Dr.  Reid,  that  upon  Mr. 
Locke's  principles,  when  a  man  is  impatient  under  any  pain 
or  distress,  or  eager  in  the  expectation  of  some  happiness, 
the  succession  of  his  ideas  is  veiy  quick,  since  time  appears 
long  to  him;  and  on  the  other  hand,  when  he  is  pleased,  and 
happy  in  agreeable  conversation,  or  delighted  with  a  vuiiety 
of  agreeable  objects  that  strike  his  senses  or  imagination,  the 
succession  of  ideas  should  be  slow,  since  time  flies  away, 
the  reverse  of  which  in  both  cases  he  supposes,  and  justly, 
to  take  place.  Mr.  Locke's  principles  lead  to  no  such  con- 
clusions. He  merely  propounds  a  law  of  our  moral  consti- 
tution, from  which  cases  of  this  kind  exhibit  exceptions,  pre- 
sent contradictory  phenomena,  and  for  the  solution  of  which 
we  must  have  recourse  to  some  other  constituent  principle 
of  our  nature.  A  Newton  fixing  his  attention  closely  in  the 
solution  of  a  philosophical  question,  is  insensible  of  the  lapse 
of  time,  the  metaphysician  would  say,  because  the  succession 
of  his  ideas  would  be  slow,  and  he  would  find  pleasure  in 
the  occupation.  Let  the  same  Newton  be  racked  with  ill- 
ness, and  his  mind  now  turned  from  scientifical  pursuits,  is 
wholly  engrossed  with  his  pain;  his  time  now  passes  slug- 
gishly away,  not  because  the  succession  of  his  ideas  is  more 
rapid  than  before,  for  in  this  case  also  it  would  be  slow;  but 
because  a  new  circumstance  intervenes,  that  changes  the  na- 
ture of  the  case,  the  pain  is  irksome,  and  the  time  in  which 
it  is  endured  must  appear  long,  although  in  a  different  state 
of  mind  it  might  pass  rapidly  away.  The  phenomena  ex- 
hibited by  the  human  mind,  in  its  perceptions  of  the  pro- 
gress of  time  are  endless,  and  sometimes  inexplicable;  be- 
cause not  susceptible  of  being  reduced  to  any   general  laws 


Of  Duration^  273 

pf  our  constitution.  "  I  have  heard  a  military  officer,"  says 
Dr.  Reid,  "  a  man  of  candour  and  observation,  say,  that  the 
time  he  was  engaged  in  hot  action,  always  appeared  to  hin> 
much  shorter  than  it  really  was.  Yet,  I  think,  it  cannot  be 
supposed  that  the  succession  of  ideas  was  then  slower  than 
usual."  There  is  no  necessity  for  supposing  that  the  suc- 
cession of  ideas  was  slower  than  usual  on  such  an  occasion, 
or  for  resorting  to  a  theory  discrepant  from  that  of  Mr. 
Locke,  in  order  to  explain  the  phenomenon. 

Several  considerations  may  be  offered,  which  serve  to  ac- 
count in  a  satisfactory  manner  for  the  fact,  that  to  an  officer 
under  such  circumstances  time  might  appear  short. 

In  the  first  place,  the  active  employment  of  his  mind,  and 
almost  total  absorption  of  all  its  powers,  in  the  great  object 
of  his  pursuit,  viz.  to  obtain  the  victory,  and  in  order  to  this 
purpose,  the  watching  of  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  and 
directing  those  of  his  own  army,  would  to  a  man  naturally 
brave  and  accustomed  to  danger,  have  a  tendency  to  accele- 
rate to  him  the  progress  of  time.  Deep  and  solicitous  occu- 
pation, in  any  business  which  we  are  extremely  anxious  to 
perform,  makes  us  loose  all  sense  of  the  lapse  of  time. 

In  the  next  place,  while  it  is  not  denied,  that  during  the 
heat  of  action,  and  the  rapid  movements  of  two  contending 
armies,  our  ideas  would  succeed  each  other  with  great  rapi- 
dity; yet  it  is  to  be  observed  also,  that,  except  with  a  few  of 
them  which  were  the  most  interesting,  the  very  rapidity  of 
their  succession  would  prevent  them  from  producing  the 
usual  effect  upon  the  mind,  by  occasioning  it,  from  a  distinct 
notice  taken  of  each  of  them,  to  mark  the  progress  of  time. 
As  bodies  may  pass  within  our  sphere  of  vision,  with  such 
immense  velocity  as  to  be  imperceptible  to  the  eye,  so  when 
the  mind  is  excited  by  the  heat  and  noise  of  battle,  many  of 
the  ideas  which  shoot  through  the  fancy  in  such  quick  suc- 
cession, would  be  utterly  unnoticed.  We  know  that  lightning 
consists  of  a  small  portion  of  electric  fluid,  passing  from  the 

M  m 


274  Of  Duration. 

cloud,  and  that  like  all  other  l)odies,  it  travels  by  distinct 
and  successive  stages  from  the  cloud  to  the  earth.  Why 
then,  does  it  appear  to  us  to  be  but  one  continuous  stream  of 
fire,  reaching  from  the  cloud  to  the  earth.  Evidently,  be- 
cause its  velocity  is  so  great,  that  our  perceptions  are  not 
quick  enough  to  mark  the  several  stages  of  its  progress. 
Beings  of  quicker  perceptions  may  do  this,  for  ought  we 
know,  and  behold  it  in  its  descent,  like  a  ball  of  fire  moving 
through  space,  in  the  same  manner  as  we  might  view  the 
motion  of  a  red-hot  cannon  ball,  passing  slowly  through  the 
hemisphere.  "  If  a  burning  coal,  be  nimbly  moved  round  in 
a  circle,"  says  Newton,  "  with  gyrations  continually  repeat- 
ed, the  whole  circle  will  appear  like  fire;  the  reason  of  which 
is,  that  the  sensation  of  the  coal  in  the  several  places  of  that 
circle,  remains  impressed  on  the  sensorium,  until  the  coal 
return  again  to  the  same  place.  And  so  in  quick  consecu- 
tion of  colours,  viz.  red,  yellow,  green,  blue  and  purple,  the 
impression  of  every  colour  remains  on  the  sensorium,  until  a 
revolution  of  all  the  colours  be  completed,  and  that  first  co- 
lour returns  again.  The  impressions,  therefore,  of  all  the  suc- 
cessive colours  are  at  once  in  the  sensorium,  and  beget  a 
sensation  of  white."*  These  facts  assist  us  in  furnishing  a 
solution  of  the  problem  relative  to  the  officer  before  men- 
tioned, as  they  go  to  show,  that  many  of  the  objects  which 
passed  in  rapid  review  before  his  senses,  during  the  heat  of 
contest,  would  not  convey  distinct  notices  to  the  mind,  and 
of  course  would  pass  by  unheeded,  and  that  the  succession 
of  our  ideas  may  be  so  very  rapid  as  to  run  into  each  other, 
and  thus  present  only  a  single  perception  to  the  mind.  A 
commander  thus  circumstanced  would  after  all,  have  his 
whole  attention  engrossed  by  a  very  few  ideas,  whose  suc- 
cession alone  would  be  distinctly  marked  by  him.  These 
considerations,  it  is  presumed,  are  sufficient  to  ex])lain  the 

*  Newton's  Optics. 


Of  Duration.  275 

fact,  that  time  might  appear  short  to  him  during  the  heat  of 
action.  But  supoose  as  a  spectator  of  the  same  scene,  a 
friend,  wife  or  child,  deeply  interested  for  his  fate,  looking 
intently  upon  it;  and  could  we  imagine  a  period,  in  which 
time  would  advance  with  a  more  lingering  pace,  than  while 
he  saw  him  in  the  rage  of  battle,  and  every  moment  in  dan- 
ger of  death?  In  this  case,  deeply  interested  as  he  would  be, 
yet  he  would  not  be  thrown  into  such  a  tumult  of  emotions 
and  confused  mixture  of  sensations,  as  not  to  be  able  lei- 
surely to  mark  the  succession  of  his  thoughts,  and  at  the 
same  time  would  be  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
anxiety.  Every  minute  in  that  condition  might  appear  an 
hour. 

Let,  then,  a  fair  construction  be  given  to  the  maxim  of 
Mr.  Locke,  and  it  will  be  found  to  have  its  foundation  in  a 
just  philosophy,  and  in  correct  and  comprehensive  views  of 
the  structure  and  operations  of  the  human  mind. 

Since  writing  what  is  contained  above,  in  conversation 
with  an  intelligent  military  officer  of  our  country,  I  have 
been  furnished  with  some  facts,  that  completely  establish  the 
theory  which  is  maintained.  He  remarked,  that,  in  the  dif- 
ferent engagements  in  which  he  was  concerned,  his  percep- 
tion of  the  progress  of  time,  varied  according  to  circum- 
stances. In  general,  he  said,  when  his  mind  was  occupied 
merely  with  the  management  of  his  own  men,  and  watching 
the  movements  of  the  enemy,  time  appeared  shorter  than 
usual:  insomuch,  that  on  one  occasion,  when  the  opposing 
force  gave  way  sooner  than  was  anticipated,  both  he  and 
his  soldiers  expressed  their  surprise  at  their  speedy  flightj 
but  were  no  less  astonished  to  find,  upon  computing  the 
time,  that  the  greater  part  of  an  hour  had  passed  in  the  ac- 
tion. On  another  occasion,  however,  he  said,  when  he  was 
contending  with  a  superior  force,  and  in  danger  of  being 
overpowered  by  them,  being  every  moment  in  expectation 
of  a  reinforcement,  time  appeared  very  tedious  and  long. 


276  Of  Duration. 

until  the  reinforcement  arrived.  Now  these  facts,  I  conceive 
to  be  decisive  of  the  point  at  issue;  and  prove  beyond  all 
reasonable  doubt,  that  the  explanation  above  attempted 
of  these  phenomena,  is  correct.  For  here,  we  find  that  al- 
though the  ideas  must  have  passed  in  very  quick  succession 
through  the  mind  of  the  officer  above  mentioned,  yet  a  sin- 
gle circumstance,  such  as  the  anxious  expectation  of  relief, 
fastening  the  attention  painfully  upon  that  object  alone,  was 
able  to  change  the  whole  train  of  his  perceptions,  cause  eve- 
ry less  interesting  thought  to  pass  entirely  unnoticed,  while 
the  mind  was  wholly  engrossed  by  that  single  object,  and 
thus  make  time  appear  long;  although  without  the  interven- 
tion of  that  circumstance  it  always  appeared  short.  Thus  it 
appears,  that  although  many  ideas  may  pass  through  the 
mind  in  a  given  time,  yet  where  a  few  entirely  engross  its 
attention  and  deeply  engage  its  hopes  or  fears,  precisely  the 
same  effect  is  produced,  as  if  but  few  ideas  had  passed 
through  it;  the  less  interesting  being  entirely  unnoticed,  and 
those  which  are  more  interesting  completely  engrossing  it. 
The  facts  above  stated,  go  to  prove  also,  that  although  in 
the  midst  of  a  multitude  of  ideas  passing  through  the  mind, 
a  few  only  may  be  noticed  by  it,  so  as  to  produce  their  usu- 
al effect;  yet  it  will  depend  upon  the  nature  of  the  object  in 
immediate  view  of  the  mind,  and  the  emotions  which  they 
excite,  whether  time  shall  appear  long  or  short.  When  the  offi- 
cer was  merely  engaged,  under  ordinary  circumstances  in  the 
heat  of  action,  and  a  few  great  objects  occupied  his  whole 
attention,  time  appeared  short;  but  as  soon  as  a  circumstance 
that  was  painfully  contemplated  intervened,  for  instance,  the 
anxious  expectation  of  a  reinforcement  to  relieve  him  from 
danger  and  difficulty;  or  in  other  words,  a  new  principle  of 
our  nature  was  called  into  operation,  that  lengthened  out 
the  lapse  of  time,  as  does  hope  deferred,  it  then  appeared 
long  and  tedious.  Nothing  more  can  be  wanted  to  show  the 


Our  Idea  of  Substance.  277 

correctness  of  the  principles  which  we  have    above    pre- 
scribed. 

The  two  remaining  ideas  which  Dr.  Reid  thinks  cannot 
be  traced  back,  either  to  sensation  or  reflection,  are  those 
which  we  have  bf  substance,  and  of  personal  identity.  His 
views  in  reference  to  the  first,  are  thus  expressed  by  him — 
"  It  were  to  be  wished  that  Mr.  Locke,  who  inquired  so 
accurately,  and  so  laudably  into  the  origin,  certainty,  and 
extent  of  human  knowledge,  had  turned  his  attention  more 
particularly  to  the  origin  of  these  two  opinions,  which  he 
firmly  believed;  to  wit,  that  sensible  qualities  must  have  a 
subject,  which  we  call  body,  and  that  thought  must  have  a 
subject,  which  we  call  mind.  A  due  attention  to  these  two 
opinions,  which  g^overn  the  belief  of  all  men,  even  of  scep- 
tics, in  the  practice  of  life,  would  probably  have  led  him  to 
perceive,  that  sensation  and  consciousness,  are  not  the  only 
sources  of  human  knowledge,  and  that  there  are  principles  of 
belief  inhuman  nature,  of  which  we  can  give  no  account,  but 
that  they  necessarily  result  from  the  constitution  of  our  facul- 
ties; and  that  if  it  were  in  our  power  to  throw  off  their  in- 
fluence upon  our  conduct  and  practice,  we  could  neither 
speak  nor  act  like  reasonable  men.  We  cannot  give  a  rea- 
son, why  we  believe  even  our  sensations  to  be  real  and  not 
fallacious;  why  we  believe  what  we  are  conscious  of;  why  we 
trust  any  of  our  natural  faculties,  &c."  Here  we  were  led  to 
conclude,  in  the  first  part  of  this  paragraph,  that  we  should 
meet  with  a  sufficient  argument  to  show,  that  sensation  and 
consciousness,  are  not  the  only  sources  of  human  knowledge; 
but  to  our  disappointment,  we  find  it  only  asserted,  what  no 
one  denies,  that  there  are  principles  of  belief  in  human  na- 
ture, of  which  we  can  give  no  other  account,  but  that  they 
necessarily  result  from  the  constitution  of  our  faculties. 
Had  Mr.  Locke  attempted  to  assign  a  reason  why,  when  we 
see  figure  and  extension,  we   are   irresistibly  convinced  that 


278  Our  Idea  of  Substance. 

there   is   something  figured  and   extended,  the  strictures  of 
the  Dr.  would  justly  have  applied  to  him. 

This  he  has  not  done,  but  in  other  parts  of  his  works, 
places  our  belief  in  such  cases  upon  the  same  ground  as  that 
assigned  it  by  Dr.  Reid,  viz.  the  testimony  of  sense;  and  in 
this  matter,  he  undertakes  to  trace  to  its  origin,  and  ascer- 
tain our  idea  of  substance,  both  that  which  is  material,  and 
that  which  is  immaterial.  The  one  he  refers  to  sensation, 
and  the  other  to  reflection;  and  of  that  conception,  in  both 
cases,  he  gives  the  following  account.  All  philosophers  agree, 
that  all  that  we  know  of  things  is  from  their  properties. 
With  the  properties  or  qualities  of  matter,  we  become  ac- 
quainted by  sensation,  as  its  hardness,  softness,  figure, 
colour,  heat,  cold,  &c.  and  with  the  properties  of  mind  by 
reflection,  as  of  thinking,  feeling,  &c.  Now  we  are  assured, 
that  where  there  are  the  qualities  of  figure,  colour,  extension, 
there  must  be  something,  coloured,  figured,  extended;  and 
where  there  are  the  attributes  of  thought,  willing,  &c.  there 
must  be  something  capable  of  the  exercise  of  these  powers. 
As  we  cannot  penetrate  into  the  intimate  essences  of  things, 
all  the  notion  we  can  form  of  substance  in  either  of  the  cases 
before  mentioned,  either  of  matter  or  mind,  is,  that  it  is  the 
substratum  or  support  of  accidents  or  qualities.  Thus  all  the 
idea  we  can  have  of  substance  is  very  obscure  and  inade- 
quate, being  able  to  consider  it  only  as  the  essence  or  inter- 
nal structure  on  which  its  properties  depend.  The  school- 
men, indeed,  speak  of  the  substantial  forms  upon  which  the 
properties  depend;  but  this  is  the  mere  idle  use  of  a  term 
without  any  distinct  meaning  annexed  to  it,  and  serves  to 
explain  nothing.  It  is  true  that  the  term  support  or  substra- 
tum, still  used  in  the  schools,  serves  no  better  to  give  us  a 
clear  and  distinct  idea  of  substance;  but  it  was  not  the  pur- 
pose of  Mr.  Locke  to  convey  any  adequate  perception  of 
substance,  for  of  this  he  knew  the  human  mind  was  incapable, 
but  merely  to  explain  in  what  our  idea  of  it  consists.     We 


Of  Personal  Idaithy,  879 

see,  therefore,  that  in  Dr.  Reid's  brief  strictures  upon  IVTr. 
Locke's  doctrine  upon  this  point,  he  has  confounded  two 
things  entirely  distinct  from  each  other,  the  ascertaining  of 
our  idea  of  substance,  and  an  attempt  to  explain  the  ground 
of  our  belief,  that  any  substances  exist.  How  are  we  to  re- 
pose confidence  in  the  sentiments  of  an  author  who,  in  a  mat- 
ter so  plain,  so  egregiously  misapprehends  his  subject? 

The  last  particular  which  he  enumerates  as  forming  an  ex- 
ception to  the  doctrine  of  Mr.  Locke,  that  all  our  simple 
ideas  are  derived  from  sensation  and  reflection,  is  that  of  per- 
sonal identity.  As,  however,  he  has  no  where  distinctly 
stated  the  ground  on  which  the  opinion  rests,  that  our  idea 
of  personal  identity  cannot  be  traced  back  either  to  the  one 
or  the  other  assigned  inlets  of  human  knowledge,  but  has 
rather  confined  his  strictures  to  the  general  principles  of  Mr. 
Locke;  and  as,  moreover,  the  same  method  of  reasoning,  by 
which  we  have  answered  his  other  objections,  would  be  ap- 
plicable in  this  case,  we  shall  follow  him  in  this  course,  and 
simply  indulge  ourselves  in  a  few  observations  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  identity,  and  personal  identity.  Mr.  Locke,  in  his 
entertaining  disquisition  upon  this  subject,  has  said  many 
excellent  things,  and  his  opinions  are  unobjectionable,  except 
on  the  topic  of  personal  identity;  and  it  is  remarkable,  that 
upon  this  also,  while  he  exhibits  another  proof  of  the  liabili- 
ty even  of  the  greatest  and  most  exalted  geniuses,  to  occa- 
sional failures  in  their  attempts  at  the  investigation  of  nature, 
and  has  failed  in  attaining  to  the  truth  himself,  by  his  lumi- 
nous exposition  of  the  subject, he  has  diffused  so  clear  alight 
around  it,  as  to  render  it  easily  perceptible  to  his  readers. 

The  object  of  inquiry  in  the  schools  was  to  ascertain  the 
principium  individuationis,  or  principle  of  identity,  and  as 
Bishop  Butler  has  remarked,  (who  in  a  short  treatise  on  this 
subject  has  detected  the  slight  inaccuracy  of  Mr.  Locke,  and 
at  the  same  time  placed  it  in  so  clear  a  point  of  view,  as  to 
preclude  the  possibility  of  any  rational  controversy  concern^ 


280  Of  Personal  Identity, 

ing  it  in  future,)  they  might  as  well  have  inquired  about  the 
principle  of  equality  or  sin-iilitude,  or  any  other  of  our  sim- 
ple perceptions.  We  all  understand  as  perfectly  what  is 
meant  by  identity,  as  by  the  t-quality  or  similitude  of  two  ob- 
jects; and  as  it  is  a  simple  idea,  it  is  not  susceptible  of  defi- 
nition. "  Now  when  it  is  asked,"  says  Bishop  Butler,  in  that 
lucid  dissertation  affixed  to  his  analogy  of  natural  and  re- 
vealed religion;  "  when  it  is  asked,  wherein  personal  identity 
consists,  the  answer  should  be  the  same,  as  if  it  were  asked, 
wherein  consists  similitude  or  equality;  that  all  attempts  to 
define,  would  but  perplex  it.  Yet  there  is  no  difficulty  at  all 
in  ascertaining  the  idea.  For  as  upon  two  triangles  being 
compared  or  viewed  together,  there  arises  to  the  mind  the  idea 
of  similitude;  or  upon  twice  tv/o  and  four,  the  idea  of  equal- 
ity; so  likewise  upon  comparing  the  consciousnesses  of  one's 
self,  or  one's  own  existence  in  any  two  moments,  there  as  im- 
mediately arises  to  the  mind  the  idea  of  personal  identity. 
And  as  the  two  former  comparisons  not  only  give  us  the 
ideas  of  similitude  and  equality,  but  also  show  us  that  two 
triangles  are  alike,  and  twice  two  and  four  are  equal;  so  the 
latter  comparison,  not  only  gives  us  the  idea  of  personal  iden- 
tity, but  also  shows  us  the  identity  of  ourselves  in  these  two 
moments;  the  present,  suppose,  and  that  immediately  past; 
or  the  present,  and  that  a  month,  a  year  or  twenty  years 
past." 

This  is  a  very  profound  and  just  observation,  and  serves 
completely  to  unravel  the  whole  mystery.  All  that  is  left 
us,  therefore,  in  such  cases,  is  merely  to  ascertain  our  ideas 
of  identity  as  the  term  is  applicable  to  different  objects,  with- 
out attempting  the  fruitless  inquiry  in  what  identity  itself 
consists.  As  it  is  a  relative  idea,  it  will  assume  a  different 
meaning,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  things  spoken  of,  and 
the  objects  which  are  compared.  When  we  speak,  for  instance, 
of  the  identity  of  a  mass  or  congeries  of  matter,  of  a  plant,  a 
man,  or  a  person,  we  express  different  shades  of  the   same 


Of  Personal  Identity .  281 

thought;  all  however,  equally  clear  and  intelligible,  but  sus- 
ceptible of  being  embarrassed  by  a  disputatious  and  frivo- 
lous philosophy.  When  we  talk  of  the  sameness  of  an  un- 
organised bulk  or  congeries  of  matter,  we  mean  that  it  pos- 
sesses all  the  particles  which  enter  into  its  composition,  the 
sameness  of  a  plant  implies  that  it  is  the  identical  organized 
substance  endowed  with  the  principle  of  vegetable  life,  and 
which  at  one  time  may  be  a  scion,  at  another  the  largest  tree 
of  the  forest;  when  we  speak  of  the  identity  of  man,  we 
mean  the  same  bodily  form  and  features  added  to  a  rational 
soul,  with  all  its  properties  and  powers.  Mr.  Locke,  I  think, 
without  any  ground  in  reason,  makes  a  distinction  between 
the  identity  of  the  man,  and  the  person,  considering  the  last, 
as  the  sameness  of  a  rational  being  as  exhibited  to  itself. 
This  distinction  is  certainly  not  a  just  one;  since  the  identity 
of  the  man  and  the  person,  is  precisely  the  same  object  of 
contemplation  to  the  mind,  but  is  only  viewed  through  differ- 
ent media,  as  it  were,  when  beheld  by  ourselves  or  others. 
We  can  judge  of  the  identity  of  other  things  and  other  men 
only  by  the  appearances  they  exhibit  to  us,  and  by  the  pro- 
perties of  their  nature,  with  which  from  experience  we  become 
acquainted;  we  can  judge  of  the  identity  of  ourselves,  on- 
ly by  sensation  and  by  consciousness,  with  the  aid  of  memory, 
by  sensation  deriving  our  knowledge  of  our  external  form  and 
features,  by  reflection  our  knowledge  of  the  rational  soul 
within,  with  all  its  powers,  affections,  desires,  hopes,  remem- 
brances, anticipations,  8cc.  with  which  the  heart  of  the  indi- 
vidual himself  alone  can  be  acquainted.  "  In  like  manner," 
says  Mr.  Locke,  "  if  two  or  more  atoms  be  joined  together 
in  the  same  mass,  every  one  of  those  atoms  will  be  the  same, 
by  the  foregoing  rule;  and  whilst  they  exist  united  together, 
the  mass  consisting  of  the  same  atoms,  must  be  the  same 
mass,  or  the  same  body,  let  the  parts  be  never  so  differently ' 
jumbled;  but  if  one  of  those  atoms  be  taken  away,  or  one 
new  one  added,  it  is  no  longer  the  same  mass  or  the  same 

N  n 


28B  Of  Personal  Identity, 

body*  I"  t'lc  state  of  living  creatures,  their  identity  depends 
not  on  a  mass  of  the  same  particles,  but  on  something  else; 
for  in  them  the  variations  of  great  parcels  of  matter  altet 
\'iot  the  identity.  An  oak  growing  from  a  plant  to  a  great 
tree,  and  then  lopped,  is  still  the  same  oak;  and  a  colt  grown 
up  to  a  horse,  sometimes  fat  and  sometimes  lean,  is  all  the 
while  the  same  horse;  though  in  both  these  cases  there  may 
be  a  manifest  change  of  the  parts;  so  that  truly  they  are  not 
either  of  them  the  same  masses  of  matter,  though  they  be 
truly  one  the  same  oak,  and  the  other  the  same  horse;  the 
reason  whereof  is,  that  in  these  two  cases  of  a  mass  ot  mat- 
ter and  a  living  body,  identity  is  not  applied  to  the  same  thing.** 
Again,  he  says,  "•  the  identity  oi  the  same  man  consists,  in 
nothing  but  a  particij)aiion  of  the  same  continued  life,  by  con- 
stantly fleeting  panicles  of  matter,  in  succession,  vitally  uni- 
ted to  the  same  organized  body." 

After  stating  the  subject  with  so  much  accuracy  and  just- 
ness of  conception,  it  seems  singular   that  he  should   have 
fallen  into  so  glaring  an  error  as  to  make  personal   identity 
consist  in  consciousness.  His  own  language  in  several  places 
is  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  doctrine  he  espouses.     "  To 
find  wherein  personal   identity  consists,"   says   Mr.   Locke, 
*'we  must  consider  what  person  stands  for,  which,  I  think,  is 
a  thinking  intelligent  Being,  that  has  reason   and  reflection^ 
and  can  consider  itself  as  itself,  the  same  thinking  thing  in 
different  times  and  places,  which  it  does  only   by  that  cim- 
sciousness,  which  is  inseparable  from  thinking,  and  seems  to 
be  t-ssential  to  it."    Here  we  find  the  very  opinion  of  Bishop 
Butler  distinctly  stated,   a  person  is   a   thinking   intelligent 
being,  that  has  reason  and  reflection,  and  can  consider  itself 
as  itself,  the  same  thinking  thing  in  difl'erent  times  and  places, 
by  means  of  consciousness.     It  is  unaccountable  that   Mr. 
Locke  should  after  this,  have  maintained  that  our  personal 
identity  consists  in  consciousness,  when   he   here  considers 
consciousness,   and  very  justly,  as  that  act  of  the  mind  by 
which  we  become  acquainted  with  our  own  persons,  or  that 


Of  Personal  Identity,  283 

thinking  principle  within,  and  with  its. sameness  at  one  mo- 
ment and  another,  or  at  different  periods  of  life.  He  might 
as  well,  in  any  other  case,  have  confounded  our  perception  of 
an  object  with  the  object  of  perception.  Consciousness  with 
the  aid  of  memory,  becomes  the  mirror  in  which  those  be- 
ings called  ourselvc  s  are  successively  disclosed  to  us,  and  in- 
variably accompanies  thought  and  other  operations  of  the 
mind;  but  can  no  more  be  regarded  as  including  the  person, 
than  a  part  can  include  the  whole.  "  Self,"  repeats  Mr. 
Locke,  "is  that  conscious  thinking  thing  ^whatever  substance 
made  up  of,  whether  spiritual  or  material,  simple  or  com- 
pounded, it  matters  not)  which  is  sensible  or  conscious  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  capable  of  happiness  or  misery,  and  so  is 
concerned  for  itself,  as  far  as  that  consciousness  extends." 
Here  one  of  the  attributes  of  that  thinking  thing  called  self, 
is  said  to  be  consciousness,  how  then,  could  consciousness 
be  the  very  thinking  thing  itself?  It  will  be  perceived,  there- 
fore, that  while  Mr.  Locke  makes  this  point  perfectly  clear 
to  his  readers,  by  an  unaccountable  oscitancy  of  understand- 
ing, he  lost  sight  of  the  truth  himself. 

Mr.  Locke  perceived  that  it  would  be  objected  to  his  doc- 
trine of  personal  identity  consisting  in  consciousness,  that  if 
so,  as  soon  as  we  lose  the  memory  of  any  actions,  we  are  no 
longer  the  persons  who  perpetrated  them.  He  has  stated 
this  objection  in  full,  and  attempted,  though  I  think  very 
unsuccessfully,  its  refutation.  The  fact  is,  that  if  by  person- 
al identity,  be  meant  the  sameness  of  a  rational  being,  com- 
posed of  a  material  and  immaterial  part,  to  itself,  the  ap- 
pearance which  our  bodies  display  to  our  senses  is  included 
in  the  idea,  as  well  as  the  sameness  of  our  minds. 

The  person,  is  a  creature  composed  of  body  and  mind,  and 
which,  whether  contemplated  by  others,  and  denominated  the 
man,  or  by  ourselves,  and  constituting  what  we  call  self,  is 
invariably  the  same  thing,  although  exhibited  to  the  different 
observers  under  different  aspects.     Couid  the  soul  of  Percy, 


284  Of  Personal  Identity. 

together  with  its  consciousness,  have  passed  by  a  miraculous 
transmigration  into  the  body  of  John  Falstaff,  and  the  case 
is  possible,  would  he  have  been  the  same  person? 

I  shall  conclude  this  article  with  noticing  briefly  the 
strictures  of  Dr.  Reid,  upon  the  doctrine  of  Mr.  Locke. 
"  First,"  says  he,  "  Mr.  Locke  attributes  to  consciousness, 
the  conviction  which  we  have  of  our  past  actions,  as  if  any 
man  may  now  be  conscious  of  what  he  did  twenty  years  ago. 
It  is  impossible  to  understand  the  meaning  of  this,  unless  by 
consciousness  be  meant  memory,  the  only  faculty  by  which 
we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  our  past  actions."  It 
is  certain  that  without  the  agency  of  memory  we  could  have 
no  information  of  our  past  actions,  but  that  they  would  be 
forever  buried  in  oblivion;  and  it  will  be  found  that  Mr. 
Locke  recognizes  the  operation  of  that  power,  in  order  to 
disclose  to  us  our  past  consciousnesses;  and  when  he  speaks 
©four  consciousness  of  past  actions,  he  only  indulges  him- 
self in  a  very  ordinary  phraseology,  a  phraseology  which  al- 
though not  technically  correct,  from  the  frequency  of  its  use 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  lay  aside;  and  which,  moreover 
when  it  is  recollected,  that  with  the  memory  of  our  past  ac- 
tions is  inseparably  connected  the  remembrance  of  a  con- 
sciousness that  we  ourselves  performed  them,  is  not  so  un- 
philosophical  a  mode  of  expression  as  might  at  first  be  im- 
agined. So  difficult  is  it  for  philosophers  completely  to  rid 
their  disquisitions  of  the  customary  modes  of  expression, 
that  we  find  Dr.  Reid  himself,  when  treating  of  this  subject, 
unconsciously  adopting  the  language  which  he  animadverts 
upon  in  Mr.  Locke.  "  Suppose,"  says  he,"  a  brave  officer  to 
have  been  flogged  at  school  for  robbing  an  orchard,  to  have 
taken  a  standard  from  the  enemy  in  his  first  campaign,  and  to 
have  been  made  a  general  in  advanced  life.  Suppose  also, 
which  must  be  admitted  to  be  possible,  that  when  he  took 
the  standard,  he  was  conscious  of  his  having  been  flogged 
at  school,  and  that  when  made  a  general  he  was  conscious  of 


Of  Personal  Identity.  2&5 

his  taking  the  standard,  but  had  absolutely  lost  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  flogging.  It  follows  from  Mr.  Locke's 
doctrine  that  he,  who  was  flogged  at  school,  is  the  same  per- 
son who  took  the  standard,  and  that  he  who  took  the 
standard  is  the  same  person  as  he  who  was  made  a 
general,  but  that  he  who  was  flogged  at  school  is  not 
the  person  who  was  made  a  general.  Therefore  the  gene- 
ral is,  and  at  the  same  time  is  not,  the  same  person  who 
was  flogged  at  school."  It  needed  not  such  a  syllogism  as 
this  to  detect  the  error  of  Mr,  Locke's  principle,  as  Bishop 
Butler  had  already  done  this,  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  the 
philosophick  world.  But  it  will  be  remarked,  that  the  Gene- 
ral is  here  said  to  be  conscious  of  having  taken  the  standard, 
and  when  he  took  the  standard  to  have  been  conscious  that 
some  time  before  he  was  flogged  at  school,  that  is,  he  was 
conscious  of  his  past  actions;  adopting  the  very  inaccurate 
mode  of  expression,  for  which  the  Dr.  reprehends  Mr. 
Locke.  The  fact  is,  that  setting  aside  a  frivolous  propen- 
sity to  cavil  at  the  doctrines  of  preceding  philosophers,  so 
VQxy  prevalent  in  the  Scottish  school  of  metaphysicks,  by 
which  the  science  of  the  human  mind,  instead  of  being  ad- 
vanced, has  been  involved  in  a  cloud  of  subtilty  and  trifling 
disquisition;  inasmuch  as  the  memory  enables  us  at  any 
moment  to  place  before  the  contemplation  of  the  mind  all 
the  material  actions  of  our  past  lives,  and  to  bring  along  with 
them  the  consciousnesses  of  our  having  perpetrated  them; 
(for  it  is  one  thing  to  recollect,  that  such  actions  were  per- 
formed, and  quite  another,  to  remember  that  they  were  per- 
formed by  us)  it  is  no  great  stretch  of  that  liberty  allowed 
lis  in  conveying  our  ideas,  to  say  that  we  are  conscious  of 
our  past  actions.  By  no  extravagance  of  figure  we  might 
say,  that  memory  presents  all  the  past  events  of  our  lives, 
as  so  many  objects  in  that  little  interior  world  called  our 
spirits,  which  are  the  objects  of  immediate  vision  or  percep- 
tion to  the  mind. 


286  Of  Personal  Identity. 

Lastly.  *'  It  may  be  observed,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  "  that,  in 
this  doctrine,  not  only  is  consciousness  confounded  with 
memory,  but  which  is  still  more  strange,  personal  identity  is 
confounded  with  the  evidence  which  we  have  of  personal 
identity."  Here  again  the  Dr.  maintains  a  doctrine  al- 
together incompatible  with  his  own  system. 

He  maintains,  that  by  consciousness  we  could  not  obtain 
even  the  idea  of  personal  identity,  since  by  that  act  of  the 
mind  we  can  arrive  at  a  knowledge  only  of  what  is  immedi- 
ately present  in  it;  how  then  can  it  be  the  evidence  of  per- 
sonal identity?  He  should  have  said,  conformably  to  his  own 
theory,  that  memory  is  the  evidence  of  personal  identity. 
This,  indeed,  would  not  be  true,  if  by  the  expression  me- 
mory or  consciousness  is  the  evidence  of  our  personal  iden- 
tity, he  meant  to  exclude  every  other  species  of  evidence. 
I  may  be  convinced  by  the  testimony  of  credible  witnesses, 
or  by  other  circumstances,  that  I  was  the  person  who  per- 
formed a  certain  act,  although  my  memory  does  not  retain 
it,  or  it  took  place  at  a  period  of  life  lost  to  me  in  utter  ob- 
livion, on  account  of  my  early  age,  or  a  fit  of  illness.  In  the 
Arabian  Night's  Entertainments,  we  are  told  that  the  Caliph, 
Haroun-Alraschid,  once  upon  a  time,  while  taking  his  pe- 
riodical tour  at  night,  through  the  city  of  Bagdat  in  dis- 
guise, fell  in  company  with  a  citizen  of  singular  humour, 
by  the  name  of  Abou-Hassan,  who  took  him  to  his  house 
and  sumptuously  entertained  him.  During  the  course  of  con- 
versation, Abou  Hassati,  not  knowing  that  his  guest  was  the 
commander  of  the  faithlul,  expressed  the  great  satisfaction 
it  would  afford  him  for  a  short  time,  to  exercise  the  autho- 
rity of  the  Caliph.  From  that  moment,  Haroun-Alraschid, 
determined  to  amuse  himself,  by  giving  the  citizen  an  op- 
portunity of  tasting  what  he  supposed  to  be  the  sweets  of 
arbitrary  power,  l^y  his  order,  Abou-Hassan  is  taken  du- 
ring sleep,  and  transported  while  unconscious  of  it,  to  the 
palace,  and  placed  in  the  royal  bed.     Directions  are  given, 


Of  Personal  Identity.  2Bt 

that  the  same  attendance  and  homage  shall  be  paid  him,  as 
it  is  customary  to  bestow  upon  the  real  Caliph.  Every  pos- 
sible preparation  is  made  to  convince  him  that  he  is  such. 

Upon  waking  in  the  morning,  what  is  the  astonishment  of 
Abou-Hassan,  to  find  himself  thus  laid  under  a  canopy  of 
state,  surrounded  with  the  splendour  of  royalty,  with  a  mag- 
nificent retinue  of  servants  and  courtiers  subject  to  his  will, 
and  sedulously  anticipating  his  wishes;  served  with  the  most 
costly  dishes,  obsequiously  attended  by  all  the  greatest  men 
of  his  nation;  and,  at  length  summoned  to  the  tribunal,  from 
which  he  is  to  distribute  justice  to  the  submissive  crowd. 
For  a  long  time  he  cannot  bring  himself  to  believe  that  he 
is  not  dreaming,  and  that  all  he  perceives  is  not  a  delusion 
of  the  senses.  His  doubts,  however,  are  gradually  dissipa- 
ted by  what  he  now  perceives  to  be  real  facts,  and  he  at 
length  is  brought  to  believe  himself  the  true  and  genuine 
Caliph.  In  this  story  we  find  some  admirable  touches  of 
nature,  as  is  usual  in  that  wild  and  grotesque  perform- 
ance, interspersed  with  improbable  fictions.  The  memory 
and  consciousness  of  Abou-Hassan  united,  would  seem  to 
make  it  certain,  that  he  is  only  an  obscure  individual;  but 
the  testimony  of  those  around  him,  and  the  real  scenes  con- 
tinually presented  to  his  view,  afford  an  evidence  which 
soon  preponderates  over  that  of  his  memory,  and  leads  him 
to  the  conclusion,  that  he  has  been  hitherto  deluded  with 
deceptive  visions,  and  just  now  begins  to  behold  things  in 
their  real  state.  In  this  eastern  tale  we  see  a  faithful  repre- 
sentation of  nature,  and  Abou-Hassan  might  under  such 
forms  of  government,  readily  find  an  antitype  in  real  life. 
By  violent  attacks  of  illness,  men  are  sometimes  completely 
deprived  of  all  memory  of  their  past  lives.  Would  it  be  im- 
possible under  such  circumstances  to  convince  them,  that 
they  are  the  same  persons,  who  entered  into  certain  engage- 
ments, or  performed  any  previous  acts  of  their  lives? 


BOOK  III— CHAPTER  I. 

On  the  Grounds  of  Human  Knowledge. 

The  doctrine  of  innate  ideas  having  been  refuted  by  Mr. 
Locke,  and  bemg  now  considered  as  exploded  from  philo- 
sophy, we  have  undertaken  to  show  that  all  our  simple 
ideas,  are  obtained  through  the  inlets  of  sensation  and  re- 
flection, as  asserted  bv  that  metaphysician.  We  proceed  to 
follow  the  progress  of  the  human  mind,  in  the  acquisition 
Off  knowledge,  and  ascertain  the  foundations  upon  which  it 
rests.  Instead  of  the  animated  statue  of  Condillac,  we  will 
suppose  a  philosopher  endowed  with  all  the  bodily  and  men- 
tal powers,  bestowed  upon  our  race  by  the  Creator,  and  with 
a  thirst  for  improvement,  and  a  turn  to  scientific  investiga- 
tion, but  entirely  destitute  of  ideas,  even  of  the  original  per- 
ceptions of  sense,  to  set  himself  forth  in  the  world  in  quest 
of  information.  By  sensation  or  the  power  of  perceiving, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  five  organs  of  sense,  hear- 
ing, seeing,  tasting,  smell  and  touch,  he  derives  intelligence 
of  the  external  world,  of  all  extended  substances  and  their 
properties;  and  by  reflection,  he  becomes  acquainted  with 
the  internal  world,  or  his  own  mind,  and  its  properties  and 
operations.  From  these  two  fountains  flow  all  his  know- 
ledge, both  of  the  physical  and  moral  world.  The  senses 
internal  and  external,  become  our  first  instructors,  and 
through  their  aid  it  is,  that  advancing  from  step  to  step,  we 
gradually  collect  the  lessons  of  experience,  until  at  length 
after  an  ample  accumulation  of  facts,  by  experience  and  ob- 
servation, availing  ourselves  of  the  method  of  induction,  we 

o  o 


290  On  the  Grounds  of  Human  Knowledge, 

establish  the  great  maxim  of  truth,  and  principles  of  science. 
Experience,  therefore,  may  be  regarded  as  having  its  com- 
mencement in  the  notices,  conveyed  into  the  mind  by  sen- 
sation and  reflection,  and  having  its  consummation  in  the 
great  truths,  to  which  we  are  able  to  attain  by  induction. 

Before  our  philosopher  has  proceeded  far  in  his  examina- 
tion of  nature,  he  discovers  that  he  is  possessed  of  powers, 
that  enable  him  to  arrive  at  a  new  species  of  truth,  not  al- 
ways depending  upon  experience,  though  posterior  to  it  in 
the  order  of  his  attainments:  namely,  those  truths  which  he 
discovers  from  tracing  the  connection  of  his  ideas,  or  the 
immutable  relations  of  things.  These  are  called  immutable 
and  eternal  truths,  and  properly  constitute  demonstration; 
such  as  those  of  mathematics,  and  some  of  those  that  come 
under  the  denomination  of  metaphysics,  moral  science,  and 
natural  religion.  These  all  have  their  foundation,  in  what 
are  denominated  intuitive  judgments,  first  principles  or 
axiomatic  truths,  and  lead  us  on  frequently  through  the 
finest  speculations  of  the  human  mind,  to  the  most  important 
and  sublime  conclusions. 

Thirdly.  Finding  that  there  are  many  facts,  at  which  it 
would  be  impossible  for  us  to  arrive,  during  the  limited  ex- 
perience of  any  human  being,  we  learn  to  open  to  ourselves 
9  new  source  of  information,  in  the  testimony  of  other  men. 

Experience,  intuition,  and  testimony,  are  justly  regarded 
as  the  three  grounds  of  human  knowledge,  and  we  shall  pro- 
ceed to  treat  of  each  of  them  distinctly,  and  illustrate  in 
what  part  of  our  knowledge  we  are  able  to  attain  to  absolute 
certainty,  and  where  we  must  rest  contented  with  probabi- 
lity. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience. 

In  the  first  place,  experience,  commencing  in  the  simplest 
perceptions  of  sense  and  consciousness,  and  terminating  in 
the  most  important  and  interesting  conclusions  of  the  induc- 
tive philosophy,  is  the  first  ground  of  human  knowledge.  It 
is  wonderful  to  reflect  upon  how  little  is  done  for  us  by  na- 
ture, in  the  matter  of  extending  our  acquaintance  with  things, 
and  what  vast  acquisitions  she  has  placed  it  in  our  power  to 
make  for  ourselves.  To  begin  with  the  senses.  Our  simple 
perceptions  introduced  by  each  sense,  are  almost  reduced  to 
an  unit,  our  acquired  perceptions  form  a  sufficiently  ample 
basis,  on  which  to  erect  the  vast  and  magnificent  structure 
of  human  science  and  philosophy.  To  commence  with  the 
first  and  most  simple  elements  of  our  knowledge.  Suppose 
our  philosopher  to  be  in  the  state  in  which  Adam  was,  when 
he  rose  in  the  full  perfection  of  his  powers,  under  the  hands 
of  his  Creator,  but  uninstructed  by  him,  and  having  every- 
thing to  learn  of  himself.  Suppose  him  with  all  his  faculties, 
external  and  internal,  to  commence  his  acquaintance  with 
the  objects  around  him.  Sounds  are  wafted  to  his  ears,  and 
odours  to  his  nostril,  but  he  is  uncertain  that  they  proceed 
from  any  object  exterior  to  himself,  and  concludes  that  they 
are  mere  sensations  in  himself,  or  modifications  of  his  for- 
mer conscious  being.  Let  us  suppose  him  next,  to  open  his 
eyes  upon  surrounding  objects.  Light  enters  into  them,  but 
as  the  muscles  connected  with  the  pupil,  have  as  yet  been 
untaught  to  perform  their  office,  he  is  unable  to  contract  and 
dilate  it,  so  as  to  receive  upon  the  retina,  the  due  propor- 
tion of  rays,  he  is  therefore  dazzled  and  pained,  and  soon 


292  Of  the  Evidence  of  "Experience. 

relieves  himself  by  closing  the  lids.  In  a  short  time,  how- 
ever, guided  by  instinct,  and  yielding  to  the  force  of  nature, 
the  muscles  learn  to  execute  their  functions,  and  he  is  able 
to  contemplate  the  objects  that  present  themselves.  Still  he 
is  unable  to  distinguish  any  thing  but  a  plain  surface,  vari- 
ously coloured,  every  thing  appearing  equally  remote,  or  ra- 
ther equally  present,  and  to  press  upon  his  eye,  and  he  can- 
not discriminate  the  smallest  from  the  largest  objects.  This 
theory  has  been  abundantly  substantiated  by  fact  and  expe- 
riment. The  man  who  was  born  blind,  and  couched  in  ma- 
ture age  by  Cheselden,  a  distinguished  English  surgeon, 
declared  that  at  first  every  thing  seemed  to  touch  his  eye; 
and  I  am  informed,  that  a  woman  in  Pennsylvania,  who, 
after  her  marriage  had  the  cataracts  removed  from  both  her 
eyes,  gives  her  testimony  in  confirmation  of  the  same  doc- 
trine. The  physician  who  performed  the  operation  reports, 
that  when  her  sight  was  restored,  she  declared  that  her  sen- 
sations were  indescribably  delightful,  but  at  the  same  time, 
her  newly  recovered  power  of  vision  was  for  some  time,  of 
very  little  use  to  her.  She  was  perpetually  stretching  out 
her  hands,  from  fear  of  running  against  objects,  being  una- 
ble to  distinguish  their  distances  or  magnitudes;  and  when 
her  own  husband  came  into  the  room,  she  knew  nothing  of 
him  until  he  spoke,  and  she  recognized  the  voice  to  which 
she  had  become  accustomed.  Both  Dr.  Reid  and  Condillac, 
ascribe  to  Bishop  Berkeley  the  merit  of  having  first  disco- 
vered that  extension,  figure,  and  space,  are  originally  per- 
ceived by  the  sense  of  touch  only,  and  not  by  sight;  but,  at 
the  same  time,  that  we  would  detract  nothing  from  the  me- 
rit of  that  great  man,  is  not  the  same  doctrine  evidently  held 
in  that  part  of  Mr.  Locke's  work,  in  which  he  undertakes  to 
give  a  solution  of  the  problem  proposed  to  him,  by  his  friend 
Molineux?  The  problem  is  this — "  Suppose  a  man  born 
blind,  and  now  adult,  and  taught  by  his  touch  to  distinguish 
between  a  cube  and  a  sphere  of  the  same  metal,  and  nighly 


Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience,   '  293 

of  the  same  bigness,  so  as  to  tell  when  he  felt  one  and 
t'  other,  which  is  the  cube,  which  is  the  sphere.  Suppose,  then, 
the  cul^e  and  sphere  placed  on  a  table,  and  the  blind  man  to 
be  made  to  see.  Quere,  whether  by  his  sight,  before  he 
touched  them,  he  could  now  distinguish  and  tell  which  is 
the  globe,  which  the  cube.  To  which  the  acute  and  judicious 
proposer  answers,  not.  For  though  he  has  attained  the  ex- 
perience of  how  a  globe,  how  a  cube  affects  his  touch,  yet 
he  has  not  yet  attained  the  experience,  that  what  affects  his 
touch  so  or  so,  must  affect  his  sight  so  or  so;  or  that  a  pro- 
tuberant angle  in  the  cube,  that  pressed  his  hand  unequally, 
shall  appear  to  his  eye  as  it  does  in  the  cube.  I  agree  with 
this  thinking  gentleman,  continues  Mr.  Locke,  whom  I  am 
proud  to  call  my  friend,  in  his  answer  to  this  his  problem; 
and  am  of  opinion,  that  the  blind  man  at  first  sight,  would 
nQt  be  able  to  say  with  certainty,  which  was  the  globe,  which 
the  cube,  whilst  he  only  saw  them;  though  he  could  uner- 
ringly name  them  by  his  touch,  and  certainly  distinguish 
them  by  the  difference  of  their  figures  felt.  This  I  have  set 
down,  and  leave  with  my  reader,  as  an  occasion  for  him  to 
consider,  how  much  be  may  be  beholden  to  experience,  im- 
provement, and  acquired  notions,  where  he  thinks  he  has  not 
the  least  use  of,  or  help  from  them;  and  the  rather,  because 
this  observing  gentleman  further  adds,  that  having  upon  the 
occasion  of  my  book,  proposed  this  to  divers  very  ingenious 
men,  he  hardly  ever  met  with  one,  that  at  first  gave  the  an- 
swer to  it,  which  he  thinks  true,  till  by  hearing  his  reasons 
they  were  convinced."  In  giving  a  solution  to  this  problem, 
which  subsequent  experiments  have  completely  confirmed, 
Mr.  Locke  not  only  discovered  his  deep  ins^ht  into  this 
part  of  our  nature,  prior  to  any  experiments  made  upon  the 
subject,  for  he  refers  to  none;  but  at  the  same  time,  led  the 
way  to  all  those  discoveries,  which  have  been  since  made  in 
regard  to  the  original  and  acquired  perceptions,  not  of  sight 
only,  but  also  of  all  the  senses.     If  he  did  not  explore  the 


294  Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience, 

whole  field  afterwards  traversed  by  Bishop  Berkeley,  he 
here  puts  into  his  hand  the  key  that  led  him  and  subse- 
quent inquirers,  into  the  deep  mysteries  of  our  original  per- 
ceptions. 

Mr.  Cheselden's  account  of  the  observations  made  by  a 
young  man,  who  was  couched  by  him  in  his  thirteenth  year, 
is  so  curious  and  interesting,  that  it  may  be  worth  while  to 
transcribe  the  most  important  particulars  contained  in  it. 
"  Though  we  say  of  this  gentleman,"  sa\s  Cheselden,  "  that 
he  was  born  blind,  as  we  do  of  all  people  who  have  ripe  ca- 
taracts, yet  they  are  never  so  blind  from  that  cause,  but  that 
they  can  discern  day  from  night;  and  for  the  most  part  in  a 
strong  light  distinguish  black,  white  and  scarlet,  but  they 
cannot  perceive  the  shape  of  any  thing:  for  the  light  by  which 
these  perceptions  are  made,  being  let  in  obliquely  through 
the  aqueous  humour,  or  the  anterior  surface  of  the  chrysta- 
line,  by  which  the  rays  cannot  be  brought  in  a  focus  upon  the 
retina,  they  can  discern  in  no  other  manner,  than  a  sound 
eye  can  through  a  glass  of  broken  jelly,  where  a  great  va- 
riety of  surfaces  so  differently  refract  the  light,  that  the  se- 
veral distinct  pencils  of  rays  cannot  be  collected  by  the  eye 
into  their  proper  foci;  wherefore  the  shape  of  an  object  in 
such  a  case  cannot  be  at  all  discerned,  though  the  colour 
may.  And  thus  it  was  with  this  young  gentleman,  who  though 
he  knew  these  colours  asunder  in  a  good  light;  yet  when  he 
saw  them  after  he  was  couched,  the  faint  ideas  he  had  of 
them  before,  were  not  sufficient  for  him  to  know  them  by  af- 
terwards; and  therefore,  he  did  not  think  them  the  same 
which  he  had  before  known  by  those  names.  Now  scarlet 
he  thought  the  most  beautiful  of  all  colours,  and  of  others  the 
most  gay,  were  the  most  pleasing;  whereas  the  first  time  he 
saw  black,  it  gave  him  great  uneasiness,  yet  after  a  little  time 
he  was  reconciled  to  it:  but  some  months  after  seeing  by  ac- 
cident a  negro  woman,  he  was  struck  with  great  horror  at 
the  sight.     When  he  first  saw,  he  was  so  far  from  making 


Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience.  295 

any  judgment  about  distances,  that  he  thought  all  objects  what- 
ever touched  his  eyes,  as  he  expressed  it,  as  what  he  felt  did 
his  skin;  and  thought  no  objects  so  agreeable  as  those  which 
were  smooth  and  regular,  though  he  could  form  no  judgment 
of  their  shape,  or  guess  what  it  was  in  any  object  that  was 
pleasing  to  him.  He  knew  not  the  shape  of  any  thing,  nor  any 
one  thing  from  another,  however  different  in  shape  or  mag- 
nitude, but  upon  being  told  what  things  were,  whose  form  he 
knew  before  from  feeling,  he  would  carefully  observe  that  he 
might  know  them  again;  but  having  too  many  objects  to  learn 
at  once,  he  forgot  many  of  them,  and,  as  he  said,  at  first  he 
learned  to  know,  and  again  forgot  a  thousand  things  in  a  day. 
One  particular  only,  though  it  may  appear  trifling,  I  will  re- 
late. Having  often  forgot  which  was  the  cat  and  which  the 
dog,  he  was  ashamed  to  ask,  but  catching  the  cat,  which  he 
ki>ew  by  feeling,  he  was  observed  to  look  at  her  steadfastly, 
and  then  setting  her  down  said,  so  puss,  I  shall  know  you 
another  time.  He  was  very  much  surprised  that  those  things 
which  he  had  liked  best,  did  not  appear  most  agreeable  to 
his  eyes,  expecting  those  persons  would  appear  most  beauti- 
ful that  he  loved  most,  and  such  things  to  be  most  agreeable  to 
his  sight  that  were  so  to  his  taste.  We  thought  he  soon  knew 
what  pictures  represented  which  were  showed  to  him,  but 
we  found  afterwards  we  were  mistaken;  for  about  two  months 
after  he  was  couched,  he  discovered  at  once  that  they  repre- 
sented solid  bodies;  when  to  that  time  he  considered  them 
only  as  party-coloured  planes,  or  surfaces  diversified  with 
variety  of  paint;  but  even  then  he  was  no  less  surprised,  ex- 
pecting the  pictures  would  feel  like  the  things  they  repre- 
sented, and  was  amazed  when  he  found  those  parts,  which 
by  their  light  and  shadow  appeared  now  round  and  uneven, 
felt  only  flat  like  the  rest;  and  asked  which  was  the  lying 
sense,  feeling  or  seeing?  Being  shown  his  father's  picture  in 
a  locket  at  his  mother's  watch,  and  told  what  it  was,  he  ac- 
knowledged a  likeness,  but  was  vastly  surprised,  asking  how 


ti96  Of  the  Evidence  of  Experienct, 

it  could  be,  that  a  large  face  could  be  expressed  in  so  little 
room;  saying,  it  should  have  seemed  as  impossible  to  him,  as 
to  put  a  bushel  of  any  thing  into  a  pint.  At  first  he  could 
bear  but  very  little  light,  and  the  things  he  saw,  he  thought 
extremely  large;  but  upon  seeing  things  larger,  those  first 
seen  he  conceived  less,  never  being  able  to  imagine  any  lines 
beyond  the  bounds  he  saw.  The  room  he  was  in,  he  said,  he 
knew  to  be  but  part  of  the  house;  yet  he  could  not  conceive 
that  the  whole  house  could  look  bigger.  Before  he  was 
couched,  he  expected  little  advantage  from  seeing,  worth 
undergoing  an  operation  for,  except  reading  and  writing;  for 
he  said,  he  thought  he  could  have  no  more  pleasure  in  walk- 
ing abroad  than  he  had  in  the  garden,  which  he  could  do 
safely  and  readilv.  And  even  blindness,  he  observed,  had 
this  advantage,  that  he  could  go  any  where  in  the  dark  much 
better  than  those  who  can  see;  and  after  he  had  seen,  he  did 
not  soon  lose  this  quality,  nor  desire  a  light  to  go  about  the 
house  in  the  night.  He  said  every  object  was  a  new  delight, 
and  the  pleasure  was  so  great  that  he  wanted  wavs  to  express 
it;  but  his  gratitude  to  his  operator  he  could  not  conceal, 
never  seeing  him  for  some  time  without  tears  of  joy  in  his 
eyes,  and  other  marks  of  affection.  A  year  after  his  first 
seeing,  being  carried  upon  Epsom  Dov/ns,  and  observing  a 
large  prospect,  he  was  exceedingly  delighted  with  it,  and 
called  it  a  new  kind  of  seeing.  And  now  being  lately  couch- 
ed of  his  other  eye,  he  says,  that  objects  at  first  appeared 
large  to  this  eye,  but  not  so  large  as  they  did  at  first  to  the 
other;  and  looking  upon  the  same  object  with  both  eyes, 
he  thought  it  looked  about  twice  as  large  as  with  the  first 
couched  eye  only,  but  not  doable,  that  we  can  any  ways  dis- 
cover." Mr.  Cheselden  adds  in  another  paper  printed  by  it- 
self, that  he  has  brought  to  sight  several  others  who  had  no 
remembrance  of  ever  having  seen;  and  that  they  all  gave  the 
same  account  of  their  learning  to  see,  as  they  called  it,  with 
the  young  gentleman  above  mentioned,  though  not  in  so  many 


0^  the  Evidence  of  Experience.  297 

particulars;  and  that  they  all  had  this  in  common,  that  having 
never  hud  occasion  to  move  their  eyes,  they  knew  not  how 
to  do  it,  and  at  first  could  not  at  all  direct  them  to  a  parti- 
cular object;  but  in  time  they  acquired  that  faculty,  though 
by  slow  degrees."* 

But  to  proceed  with  our  philosopher,  whom  we  have  sup- 
posed to  be  in  the  condition  of  the  primitive  man,  without  su- 
pernatural  illumination   or  intercourse,  being  endowed  only 
with  the  faculties  of  body  and  mind,  and  commencing  the 
exercise  of  them.    We  have  said,  that  supposing  him  to  have 
been  placed  in  this   untutored   state  in  Eden,  as  soon  as  he 
opened  his  eyes  on  the  scene  around  him,  every  sound  that 
was  conveyed  to  his  ear,  every  odour  wafted  to  his  nostrils 
and  every  object  presented  to  his  vision  would  seem  to  be 
within  himself.     He  would  be   a   whole    world   to  himself, 
and-  feel  in  a  state  of  trance,  enchantment  or  reverie.     The 
spell    would    soon  be    broken    by    the  impulses  of  nature, 
Possessed  of  muscular  power,  he  would  soon  be  prompted 
to  exert  it,  and  stretching  forth  his  hand,  would  be  surpris- 
ed to  discover  that  nothing  opposed   its   motion,   and   that 
there  was  apparently  an  empty  space  before  him.     His  legs 
would  next  be  moved  with  a  similar  result.     Emboldened 
by    these  attempts,  our  young  adventurer  would  soon  ad- 
vance forward  to  an)'  object,  say  the  tree,  that  was  before 
him,  and  beginning  to  examine  it  by  the  touch,  would  soon 
make  himself  acquainted  with   its  figure,  colour,  and  exten- 
sion.    Advancing  from  object  to  object,  and  subjecting  them 
to  the  scrutiny  of  his  sight  and  touch,  he  would  soon  ar- 
rive at  a  knowledge  of  their  qualities,  and  the  sight,  at  first 
under  pupillage  to  the  feeling,  would  soon  learn  to  outstrip 
its  instructor  in  the  information  it  gave   its  possessor,   and 
enable  him  to  judge  of  things  C(incerning  which  it  could  de- 
rive no  lights  from  the  touch.     Thus  commencing  in  a  few 
*  .See  bmith's  Optics,  book  1 . 
Fp 


298  Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience, 

simple  notices  would  the  senses  soon  convey  to  Viim  their 
numerous  acquired  perceptions.  He  quickly  becomes  an 
adept  in  judging  of  sounds,  tastes,  odours,  colours,  exten- 
sions, figures.  Hunger  next  assails  him,  and  he  goes  in 
quest  of  food.  Nature  prompts  him  to  gratify  this  appetite 
by  eating  the  fruit  upon  the  tree,  which  is  immediately  in 
view,  and  whose  appearance  and  flavour  are  so  grateful  to 
the  senses.  It  is  impossible  that  he  should  determine,  a 
priori,  whether  this  fruit  be  wholesome  or  poisonous,  and  his 
indulgence  in  eating  it  would  be  to  his  benefit  or  injury. 
Were  he  at  this  time  any  thing  of  the  philosopher  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word,  and  capable  of  eniering  into  disqui- 
sition about  it,  he  would  find  good  reason  to  conclude,  that 
from  the  known  wisdom  of  his  Contriver,  since  it  was 
agreeable  to  his  senses,  and  he  was  prompted  to  partake  of 
it,  it  must  be  innocent  and  useful.  He  is,  as  yet,  however, 
by  no  means  the  philosopher  in  the  true  meaning  of  the 
word,  but  the  simple  pupil  of  nature,  and  child  of  im- 
pulse. Impelled  by  hunger,  and  under  the  sure  guidance  of 
instinct,  that  same  principle  which,  in  the  present  state  of 
society,  leads  the  child  to  apply  its  mouth  to  the  breast  of  its 
mother,  he  plucks  the  fruit,  enjoys  it,  and  finds  himself 
sated,  and  from  thence  concludes  that  this,  and  things 
like  it,  to  which  he  feels  a  similar  propension,  are  his  appoint- 
ed sustenance.  As  the  fruit  has  relieved  him  from  the  unea- 
siness of  hunger,  and  gratified  his  palate  in  one  instance,  he 
justly  concludes  that  it  will  produce  the  same  results  in 
others.  By  a  similar  process  of  experiment  and  observation, 
he  discovers  that  water  will  quench  his  thirst,  fire  will  warm 
him  at  one  distance,  and  burn  him  at  another,  some  fruits 
are  wholesome,  and  others  noxious,  some  animals  are  inno- 
cent, and  others  fierce  and  destructive.  Thus  from  the 
very  first  step  that  man  takes  in  knowledge,  and  the  earliest 
intimations  of  sense,  to  his  noblest  speculations  in  regard  to 
the  physical  and  moral  world,  he  unconsciously  enlists  him- 


Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience.  299 

self  under  the  guidance  of  nature,  and  imbibes  all  his  les- 
sons in  her  school,  and  from  listening  to  her  unerring  and 
sublime  instructions.  He  could  not  by  any  force  of  reason 
determine  a  priori,  that  is,  by  reasoning  from  the  nature 
and  relations  of  things,  that  the  fruit  which  hunger  impelled 
him  to  devour,  would  not  destroy  him,  that  fire  would  burn, 
and  water  drown  him,  that  some  reptik-s  are  harmless,  and 
others  venomous.  From  the  outset,  the  whole  compass  of 
nature  presents  to  him  a  profound  abyss  into  which  he  can- 
not penetrate  an  inch  without  the  line  of  experience  and  ob- 
servation. When  he  avoids  the  fire  that  has  once  burnt  him, 
casts  away  the  fruits  that  have  been  found  to  be  injurious, 
and  flies  from  the  viper  that  has  endangered  his  life,  what 
does  he  but  by  a  just  induction  from  facts,  draw  the  conclu- 
sion that  there  is  a  quality  in  fire  to  pain  and  destroy  him, 
in  some  fruits  to  injure  him,  and  in  some  reptiles  to  poison 
him?  Here  then,  we  perceive  the  rise,  and  faint  glimmer- 
ings of  the  inductive  method  of  inquiry  proposed  by  Lord 
Bacon,  and  for  the  discovery  the  recommendation  and  mas- 
terly illustration  of  which  in  his  novum  organum,  he  has 
rendered  himself  so  deservedly  celebrated.  Man,  as  soon 
as  he  commenced  his  knowledge  of  nature,  and  passed  from 
his  original  simple  perceptions  to  those  more  complex  con- 
clusions to  which  he  attained  by  reason  and  observation, 
had  employed  this  instrument  although  ignorant  of  its  pow- 
er; and  although  philosophers  for  five  thousand  years  after- 
wards, from  the  great  Progenitor  of  our  race  to  Thales,  and 
from  Thales  to  Lord  iiacon,  had  lost  sight  of  it,  and  losing 
sight  of  the  broad  and  luminous  way  into  which  they  had 
just  entered  under  the  guidance  of  nature,  wandered  into 
the  intricate  and  shady  paths  of  error,  conjecture,  and 
doubtful  hypotheses.  So  just  is  the  observation  of  Con- 
dillac  in  his  Treatise  upon  Sensations.  "  II  resulte  de  cette 
verite,  que  la  nature    commence  tout  en  nous;   aussi    ai-je 


300  Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience » 

demontre   que   dans   le  principe  ou  dans  le  cominencement, 
nos  connoissancfS   sont  uniquement  son   ouvragc,  que  nous 
ne  nous  instruisons  que   d'apres  ses  lemons;  et  que  tout  I'art 
De    raisonner  consiste  a  continuer   commc  elle  nous   a  fait 
commencer.     Nature  in    all  cases,  is   the   safest  guide,  and 
most  infallible  instructor.     She  had  put  mankind  in  the  true 
path  of  philosophical   investigation,   but   under  the  influence 
of  prejudice   and  passion,  and  amidst  the  refinements  of  an 
erring  reason,  they  themselves  soon  deserted  it.     The  first 
sun  that  Adam   saw  set,   and   the    first  darkness   that  over- 
spread the    earth,   must  have   presented   to  him    the    most 
gloomy  prospects,   and  filled    him    with  fric:htful   apprehen- 
sions.    He  could   not  have   anticipated   that   it   would  ever 
rise  again.     He   considered  it  no  doubt  a  total  extinction  of 
the  light   of  the  world.     But  when   he   had  repeatedly  wit- 
nessed its  risings  and  settings,  his  confidence  in  the  perma- 
nence of  the  order  of  nature  became  fixed,  and  he  concluded, 
that  it  would  always  continue  to   rise  and  set,  and  was  the 
esiablished   cause  of  light  and  heat   to   the    system.     The 
same  would  be  the  case,  in  regard  to  all  the  other  phenome- 
na of  nature.     When  the  first  cloud  that  he  ever  saw,  over- 
spread the  hemisphere,  it   would  be   impossible    for  him  to 
knou,  that  it  would  bring  rain,  and  might  exhibit  the  phe- 
nomena of  thunder  and   lightning;   when   the  river,  say  the 
Euphrates,  upon  whose  banks  he  lived,  overflowed  its  banks, 
it  would  not  be  in  his  pov/er  to  assign  the  cause  of  that  ap- 
pearance, and  when  any  animal  approached  he  would  not  be 
able  to  pronounce  whether  it  would  be  harmless  or  not.   Ex- 
perience, however,  would  soon  initiate  him   into  all  her  Its- 
sons  on  these  points.     An  accurate  observation  would  soon 
teach  him,  that  clouds  were  generally  the  cause  of  rain,  while 
they  themselves  were  occasioned  by  the  condensation  of  va- 
pours arising  from  the  earth;   that  the   stream   was  made  to 
swell  ana  overflow  its  lyanks,  sometimes  by  heavy  falls  of 


Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience.  301 

rain,  and  at  other  times,  by  the  waters  flowing  from  the 
Ocean;  that  some  animals  were  innocent,  others  destructive. 
Thus  far  our  primitive  man,  or  philosopher,  would  reason 
correctly  and  become,  in  the  language  of  Lord  Bacon,  na- 
turae minister  et  interpres.  But  here  it  is  to  be  remarked, 
that  at  the  same  time,  this  mode  of  procedure  would  con- 
duct him  safely  in  the  path  of  knowledge;  yet  he  would  be 
very  liable,  in  tljis  track,  to  be  betrayed  into  endless  errors. 
His  strongest  tendency  in  this  particular,  is  to  rush  too  pre- 
cipitately from  an  individual  instance  to  a  general  conclu- 
sion; and  this  is  what  the  great  Verulam  denominates  the  an- 
ticipation of  nature.  For  example,  suppose  our  primitive 
man  to  see  one  of  his  children  bitten  by  a  rattle-snake,  and 
immediately  swell  and  expire;  he  would  draw  the  inference, 
that  the  bite  of  all  snakes  is  poisonous.  Here  we  see,  he 
would  rush  to  a  false  conclusion,  for  out  of  two  hundred  and 
eighteen  species  of  serpents,  thirty  two  only  are  said  to  be 
poisonous.  This  is  truly  an  instance  of  the  anticipation  of 
nature.  Thus  we  see  the  rise  of  that  inductive  system  of 
philosophising,  which,  although  so  simple  in  its  commence- 
ment, and  so  obvious  a  mode  of  procedure  to  the  under- 
standing, was  unknown  to  the  school  for  so  many  ages,  and 
by  which  the  modern  cultivators  of  science  have  accom- 
plished such  wonders.  Taking  its  rise  along  with  all  our 
experience  in  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  it  enables  us 
gradually  to  widen  and  expand  our  knowledge,  until  after 
compassing  sea  and  land,  we  extend  our  researches  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  earth,  and  take  in  the  whole  solar  system, 
and  even  scan  the  heavens.  It  is  at  once  the  instrument  by 
which  we  attain  the  most  familiar  lessons  of  daily  experi- 
ence, and  the  sublimest  discoveries  of  philosophy. 

From  what  has  been  observed  in  reference  to  this  point, 
the  unsoundness  of  that  philosophy  will  be  apparent,  which 
supposes  an  inductive  principle  to  be  one  of  the  constituent 


302  Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience. 

powers  in  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind;  when  it  is 
perfectly  evident,  that  there  is  no  necessity  for  resorting  to 
the  supposition  of  such  an  original  instinct,  in  order  to  solve 
the  phenomena.  All  the  conclusions  at  which  we  arrive, 
upon  the  ground  of  the  inductive  philosophy,  are  nothing 
more  than  the  natural  results  of  the  application  of  reason  and 
good  sense,  to  an  examination  of  the  structure  and  the  laws 
of  nature.  Experience  furnishes  us  with  facts,  and  reason 
deduces  inferences  from  them.  That  philosophy  of  human 
nature  is  as  much  to  be  regarded  as  supposititious  and  false, 
which  in  order  to  save  itself  the  labour  of  investigation, 
would  ascribe  too  many  original  and  elementary  principles 
to  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  as  that  which  in  its 
solicitude  to  simplify,  would  reduce  them  to  too  small  a 
number.  As,  in  the  latter  case,  in  order  to  give  simplicity, 
consistency,  and  finish  to  any  theories  we  form,  we  might  be 
led,  instead  of  following  the  guidance  of  nature,  to  put  her 
to  the  torture  in  order  to  exort  a  favourable  answer;  so  also 
in  the  former  case  we  should  be  in  equal  danger,  in  order 
to  save  ourselves  from  the  fatigue  of  frequent  and  attentive 
consultation  of  her,  of  allotting  to  her  workmanship,  mate- 
rials disavowed  by  her,  and  interpolating  new  laws  into  her 
sealed  and  sacred  volume.  This  mode  of  proceeding  would 
put  an  effectual  check  to  science  in  its  attempts  to  remount 
to  first  truths.  There  is  no  necessity  for  admitting  the  ex- 
istence of  any  original  inductive  principle  in  our  mental  con- 
stitution, to  solve  any  of  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind. 
I  shall  first  state  the  theory  of  Dr.  Reid  upon  this  subject, 
and  then  attempt  its  refutation.  ''  This  process  of  the  hu- 
man mind,  is  so  familiar,  that  we  never  think  of  inquiringinto 
the  principles  upon  which  it  is  founded.  We  are  apt  to  con- 
ceive it  as  a  self  evident  truth,  that  what  is  to  come  must  be 
similar  to  what  is  past.  Thus,  if  a  certain  degree  of  cold  free- 
zes water  to-day,  and  has  been  known  to  do  so  in  all  time  past. 


Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience,  303 

we  have  no  doubt  but  the  same  degree  of  cold  will  freeze  water 
to-morrow,  or  a  year  hence.  That  this  is  a  truth  which  all 
men  believe  as  soon  as  they  understand  it,  I  readily  admit; 
but  the  question  is,  whence  does  this  evidence  arise?" 
Again.  "  Experience  informs  us  that  things  have  been  con- 
joined in  time  past;  but  no  man  ever  had  any  experience  of 
what  is  future;  and  this  is  the  verv  question  to  be  resolved, 
how  we  come  to  believe  that  the  future  will  be  like  the  past?" 
Accordingly  the  following  is  the  Dr's.  solution  of  the  ques- 
tion. "  The  wise  author  of  nature  hath  implanted  in  hu-  • 
man  minds  an  original  principle,  by  which  we  believe  and  ex- 
pect the  continuance  of  the  course  of  nature,  and  the  con- 
tinuance of  those  connections  which  we  have  observed  in 
time  past."  Again  he  says.  "  Upon  this  principle  of  our 
constitution,  not  only  acquired  perception,  but  all  inductive 
reasoning,  and  all  our  reasoning  from  analogy,  is  grounded; 
and  therefore,  for  want  of  another  name,  we  shall  beg  leave 
to  call  it  the  inductive  principle.  It  is  from  the  force  of 
this  principle,  that  we  immediately  assent  to  that  axiom, 
upon  which  all  our  knowledge  of  nature  is  built,  that  effects 
of  the  same  kind  must  have  the  same  cause.  A  child  has 
found  the  prick  of  a  pin  conjoined  with  pain:  hence  he  be- 
lieves and  knows,  that  these  things  are  naturally  connected, 
he  knows  that  the  one  will  always  follow  the  other.  If  any 
man  will  call  this  only  an  association  of  ideas,  I  dispute  not 
about  words,  but  I  think  he  speaks  very  improperly.  For 
if  we  express  it  in  plain  English,  it  is  a  prescience,  that 
things  which  he  hath  found  conjoined  in  time  past,  will  be 
conjoined  in  time  to  come.  And  this  prescience  is  not  the 
eft'ect  of  reasoning,  but  of  an  original  principle  of  human  na- 
ture, which  I  have  called  the  inductive  principle.  It  leads 
often  into  mistakes  but  is  of  infinite  advantage  upon  the 
whole.     By  it,  trie  child  once  burnt,  shuns  the  fire." 


o04  Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience. 

It  forms  no  small  objection  to  this  theory,  that  it  supposes 
a  component  part,  and  a  very  important  part  too,  of  our  con- 
stitution, which  had  hitherto  escaped  the  penetration  of  phi- 
losophers. In  regard  to  many  of  the  appearances  exhibited 
by  the  human  mind,  and  the  solutions  attempted  to  be  given 
of  them,  philosophy  may  be  supposed  to  have  long  wander- 
ed in  the  dark,  from  the  extreme  subtilty  of  its  nature,  and 
the  rapidity  with  which  its  operations  are  performed,  but  it 
is  hardly  to  be  imagined,  that  their  ignoumce  should  have 
extended  to  the  great  principles  of  its  organization.  To  me 
it  appears  no  less  absurd  and  unphilosophical,  to  speak  of  an 
original  inductive  principle  of  the  mind,  than  it  would  be  to 
talk  of  an  analytical  and  synthetical  principle;  induction,  when 
properly  understood,  being  the  instrument  by  which  the-  mind 
attains  to  a  knowledge  of  nature  and  its  laws,  and  the  others, 
the  instruments  by  which  it  attains  not  only  to  experimental 
truths  or  maxims  of  science,  but  also  to  those  which  are 
usually  denominated  eternal  and  immutable  truths.  They  all 
three,  induction,  s)nthesis,  and  analysis,  are  the  vehicles  em- 
ployed by  human  reason  to  convey  her  on  the  road  to  truth 
and  certainty.  If  all  the  appearances  of  the  human  mind 
can  be  accounted  for  from  the  operation  of  reason,  and  those 
other  powers  and  instincts  that  have  been  allowed  to  belong 
to  it,  there  is  no  necessity  for  admitting  the  existence  of  this 
new  inductive  principle,  not  recognised  by  nature  as  her  off- 
spring, or  bearing  her  sacred  image  and  superscription.  An 
instincti^  e  principle  of  induction,  or  an  instinctive  principle 
by  which  we  draw  inferences  from  facts,  which  implies,  in  its 
very  terms,  the  exercise  of  reason,  is  as  palpable  an  absurdity 
as  can  well  be  imagined.  And  what  are  the  phenomena  pre- 
sented to  our  inspection,  to  account  for  which  this  supposed 
inductive  principle  of  our  nature  must  be  resorted  to?  The 
belief  which  we  have,  that  the  future  will  be  like  the  past; 
our  confidence  in  the  continuance  of  the  order  of  nature,  from 


Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience,  305 

which  results  our   assent  to  that  axiom   upon  which  all  our 
knowledge  of  nature  is  built,  that  effects  of  the   same   kind 
must  have  the  same  cause.     Let  us  put   this  matter  to  the 
test,  and  see  if  it  will  bear  a  trial  of  reason  and  argument.  One 
would  imagine  that  with  the  slightest  pretensions  to  philoso- 
phy, we  could  hardly  mistake  in  a  matter  so  extremely  plain. 
Suppose  the  philosopher  or  primitive  man,  of  whom  we  have 
before  spoken,  to  see   for  the  first  time  water  converted  by 
the  coldness  of  winter  into  a  solid  mass.     According  to  Dr. 
Reid,  by  means  of  this  inductive  principle,  he  has  an  imme- 
diate prescience,  to  use  his  own  phrase,  that  the  two  things, 
the  coldness  of  the  season,  and  the  conversion  of  water  into 
ice,  which  were  then  conjoined,  would  also  be  conjoined  in  time 
to  come.  Will  any  one  believe  this?   Would  not  this  be  to  give 
to  mankind  a  most  wonderful  perspicacity  to  enable  them,  in 
the  very  outset  of  experience,  to  accomplish  without  labour 
what  is  the  highest  attainment  of  science,  from  a  consideration 
of  the  present  to  be   able  to  predict  the  future?   It  is  evident 
that  all  he  could  possibly  know  in  this  case,  would  be,  that  cold 
had  a  tendency  to  harden  water,  but  as  to  the  future,  it  would 
not,  it  could  not  enter  into  his  thoughts.    There  is  no  power 
with  which  man  is  endowed,  which  would  enable  him  ante- 
cedently to  experience,  to  look  one  moment  into  futurity,  and 
determine  what  would  be  the  state  of  things  in  the   world, 
at  a  period  subsequent  lo  that  in  which  he  lived  at  the  time. 
How,  then,  does  he  learn  to  repose  confidence  in  the  perma- 
nence of  the  order  of  nature?     Most  undoubtedly  from   fre- 
quent experience  of  that  order.    Upon  Dr.  Reid's  principles, 
Adam,  when  he  saw  the  sun  rise  and  set  on  the  first  day  of 
his  life,  would  have  a  prescience  that  it  would  rise    and   set 
in  future.     If  this  were  true,  Adam  must  have  possessed  a 
sagacity  and  penetration,  much  surpassing  those  of  the  most 
enlightened  philosopher  at  the  present  day;  for  it  is   impos- 
sible for  us  to  decide  upon  any  ground  of  certainty  and  de- 
monstration, that  the  sun  will  rise  and  set   to-morrow.     All 

^  q 


306  Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience, 

the  evidence  which  we  have  that  these  events  will  happen, 
is  only  probable  evidence.  How  do  we  arrive  at  this  pro- 
bability, which  at  length  becomes  so  strong  and  satisfactory, 
that  we  repose,  and  justly  too,  entire  and  unlimited  confidence 
in  it?  Surely  by  frequent  and  invariable  experience  of  the 
established  constitution  and  course  of  nature.  On  the  first 
day  Adam  saw  the  sua  rise  and  set,  he  would  have  no  anti- 
cipation of  its  return;  on  the  second,  he  would  begin  to  anti- 
cipate it  on  the  third,  but  yet  with  a  slender  degree  of  confi- 
dencej  when  he  had  frequently  witnessed  its  diurnal  pro- 
gress, he  would  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  it  was  the  esta- 
blished order  of  nature  that  that  luminary  should  rule  the 
day.  Thus  it  is  from  an  invariable  experience  that  reason 
deduces  the  inference,  that  the  order  of  nature  is  established, 
and  leads  us  from  an  observation  of  the  past  to  anticipate 
the  future,  and  place  unshaken  confidence  in  the  permanence 
of  nature's  laws.  The  more  frequent  and  complete  our  ex- 
perience, the  more  satisfied  does  the  mind  become  with  the 
evidence,  but  in  no  case  can  it  ever  be  made  to  amount  to 
perfect  certainty  or  to  demonstrative  proof.  Here  the  weak- 
ness of  human  reason,  and  the  extreme  fallibility  of  the  hu- 
man mind  conspicuously  appear,  since  we  are  liable  to  end- 
less errors,  and  in  many  respects  must  remain  in  the  great- 
est uncertainty.  The  inhabitants  of  Lisbon  or  of  the  Ca- 
raccas  in  South  America,  reposed  as  entire  confidence  in  that 
established  order  of  nature,  by  which  the  earth  was  render- 
ed firm  and  stable  beneath  their  feet,  but  a  few  moments  be- 
fore it  opened  and  swallowed  them,  as  they  had  done  for 
centuries  before.  We  place  confidence  in  the  permanence  of 
nature's  laws  from  experience  alone,  and  this  confidence  is 
the  product  of  reason  and  good  sense,  exercising  themselves 
about  matters  of  this  kind;  but  after  the  most  complete  and 
ample  experience,  we  are  able  to  arrive  only  at  what  is  de- 
nominated moral  proof,  strong  and  satisfactory  probability, 
but  can  never  attain  to  entire  certainty.     There  are  no  prin- 


Of  the  Evidence  of  Experience,  307 

ciples  of  science  which  enable  us  to  determine  with  perfect 
certainty,  that  on  the  morrow,  all  the  springs  of  the  solar 
system  may  not  be  unloosed,  that  mighty  cement  which  binds 
the  planets  together  be  dissolved,  and  the  whole  structure  go 
to  ruin.  How  absurd  and  even  ridiculous,  therefore,  does  it 
appear  to  talk  of  an  inductive  principle  which  instinctively 
communicates  to  us  a  prescience  of  the  future,  and  antece- 
dently to  experience,  induces  us  to  repose  confidence  in  the 
permanence  of  the  order  of  nature? 


CHAPTER  III 

Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon. 

The  question  here  arises  in  what  consists  the  method  of 
inquiry  denominated  induction  proposed  by  its  author, 
which  has  made  so  much  noise,  and  given  rise  to  so  much 
dissertation  in  the  modern  school?  Lord  Verulam  in  a  sin- 
gle sentence  has  comprised  the  substance  of  this  mode  of  in- 
vestigation. "  Duae  vise,  sunt,"  says  he,  "  atque  esse  pos- 
sunt  ad  inquirendam  et  inveniendam  veritatem;  altera  asensu 
et  particularibus  advolat  ad  axiomata  maxime  generalia,  at- 
que ex  iis  principiis  eorumque  immota  veritate  judicat  et 
invenit  axiomata  media,  et  hsec  via  in  usu  est;  altera  a  sensu 
et  particularibus  excitat  axiomata  ascendendo  continenter  et 
gradatim,  ut  ultimo  loco  perveniatur  ad  maxime  generalia; 
hsec  via  vera  est,  sed  intentata."  The  true  way  of  philoso- 
phising according  to  him,  is  to  attempt  to  draw  no  conclu- 
sions, not  grounded  upon  an  ample  induction  of  facts;  and  be 
scrupulously  attentive  that  all  the  principles  we  venture  to 
establish,  be  supported  in  the  utmost  extent  by  experiment 
and  observation.  "  Whatever  is  not  deduced  from  the  phe- 
nomena," says  Newton,  "  is  to  be  called  an  hypothesis;  and 
hypotheses,  whether  metaphysical  or  physical,  whether  of  oc- 
cult qualities  or  mechanical,  have  no  place  in  experimental 
philosophy."  In  this,  therefore,  lies  the  true  secret  df  this 
new  method  of  investigation,  that  our  conclusions  should  al- 
ways keep  pace  with  our  experience,  which  would  seem  to 
be  as  natural  a  mode  of  procedure  to  the  understanding,  as 


310  Of  the  Indxative  Method  of  Lord  Bacon. 

that  the  farmer  should  expect  to  reap  his  harvest,  only  over 
that  portion  of  the  soil  where,  after  due  preparation  of  clear- 
ing, plowing,  and  harrowing,  he  has  sown  his  seed.  And  yet 
natural  and  spontaneous  as  is  this  method  of  intjuiry,  when 
we  set  ourselves  to  the  search  and  discovery  of  truth,  there 
is  no  discipline  to  which  the  human  mind  submits  with 
greater  reluctance,  and  under  the  yoke  of  which  it  is  prone 
to  become  more  impatient  and  refractory.  Who  shall  un- 
dergo the  toilsome  task  of  following  the  track  of  nature  up 
the  steep  and  craggy  hill  of  science,  where  rocks  and  pre- 
cipices are  to  be  successively  scaled,  when  by  a  single  flight 
of  genius,  in  the  invention  of  a  happy  hypothesis,  he  may 
at  once,  in  imagination,  ascend  to  its  top,  and  enjoy  the 
prospects  of  fame  and  immortality  presented  to  his  view? 
Men  of  genius  are  above  all  others,  the  least  inclined  to  en- 
dure this  toil,  although  it  is  from  them  alone  that  any  valu- 
able accessions  are  to  be  anticipated  to  the  stock  of  human 
learning,  or  to  the  dominion  of  man  over  nature.  H?nce  it 
is,  that  after  a  slight  and  cursory  contemplation  of  nature, 
the  ingenuity  of  mankind  is  put  upon  the  rack,  out  of  the 
scanty  materials  they  collect  to  invent  hypothesis  after  hy- 
pothesis, which,  after  amusing  their  deluded  votaries  for  a 
time,  gradually  sink  into  disrepute,  have  their  deficiencies 
disclosed,  and  at  length,  like  the  baseless  fabrics  of  a  vision, 
vanish  before  the  light  of  truth,  and  the  lessons  of  experi- 
ence. 

Are  we,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  to  be  prohibited  from  haz- 
arding any  hypothesis  or  propounding  any  theory,  until  we 
have  travelled  over  the  whole  compass  of  things,  or  if  I  may 
be  indulged  the  expressions,  circumnavigated  the  whole 
globe  of  nature  in  quest  of  facts;  and  would  not  so  strict  a 
regimen  imposed  upon  our  inquiries,  from  the  natural  im- 
becility of  the  human  "faculties,  and  the  limited  sphere  to 
which  our  experience  is  inevitably  circumscribed,  put  a  stop 
at  once  to  all  philosophical  pursuits,  and  preclude  the  possi- 


Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon.  311 

bility  of  our  attaining  to  any  principles,  in  which  we  can  re- 
pose entire  confifience?  The  solutions  of  these  questions,  will 
lead  to  a  full  development  of  the  true  nature  and  spirit  of 
the  inductive  method  of  reasoning,  which,  although  it  has 
been  abundantly  discussed  in  the  modem  schools,  has  not 
even  yet,  in  my  estimation,  been  rightly  understood  by  the 
greater  part  of  those  writers,  who  have  undertaken  to  ex- 
plain it. 

We  have  seen  that  man  can  attain  his  first  and  simplest 
perceptions,  both  of  body  and  mind,  only  by  experience.  It 
is  not  until  the  senses  have  exercised  their  functions,  that  he 
becomes  acquainted  with  the  properties  of  bodies,  that  mar- 
ble is  hard,  gold  is  yellow,  sugar  sweet,  and  wormwood 
bitter.  In  like  manner,  it  is  by  reflection  only  or  conscious- 
ness, that  he  is  introduced  to  a  knowledge  of  the  properties 
of  his  mind,  as  thinking,  feeling,  willing.  The  mind  is  en- 
dowed with  no  powers,  which  could  communicate  to  him 
this  intelligence,  unless  it  be  actually  conveyed  into  his  un- 
derstanding, through  the  appointed  inlets  of  sensation  and 
reflection.  Here,  then,  we  cannot  fail  to  perceive,  that  in  the 
very  commencement  of  our  knowledge,  nature  opens  to  our 
view  a  dark  and  impenetrable  wilderness,  in  which  we  can- 
not move  a  loot  in  safetv,  without  the  light  of  experience. 
Reason,  intense  as  her  light  afierw^irds  becomes,  in  tracing 
the  abstract  relations  and  habitudes  of  things,  and  in  collect- 
ing from  observation  the  materials  out  of  which  to  form  her 
structures,  is  here  but  a  dim  taper,  that  glimmers  through 
the  darkness,  or  an  ignis  fatuus,  if  too  confidently  trusted, 
to  decoy  us  into  bogs  and  brakes.  To  demonstrate  the  force 
and  justness  of  these  observations,  let  us  imagine  mankind 
made  acquainted  by  perception,  with  the  objects  around 
them  and  their  qualities,  say  with  fire,  water,  sugar,  salt, 
aqua  regia,  and  gold.  Suppose  them,  antecedently  to  expe- 
rience, to  begin  to  form  conjectures  about  their  probable 
operations  on  each  other.  Is  it  credible,  that  any  conjectures 


312  Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon^ 

they  might  form,  would  make  even  the  smallest  approxima- 
tion to  the  truth?  Could  they  have  any  idea,  that  if  water 
were  thrown  in  sufficient  quantity  upon  fire,  it  would  extin- 
guish it,  that  the  same  fluid  would  melt  the  sugar,  and  that 
aqua  regia  would  dissolve  the  gold?  It  is  evident  that  these 
are  lessons  which  could  be  learnt  only  from  experience,  and 
that  we  are  endowed  with  no  powers,  which  enabling  us  to 
penetrate  into  the  internal  structutes  of  these  substances, 
would  enable  us  at  the  same  time,  to  foretell  or  determine  a 
priori,  what  would  be  the  results  of  their  action  upon  one 
another.  The  king  of  Siam,  inhabitioig  a  country  along  the 
eastern  side  of  the  bay  of  Bengal,  and  within  the  tropics, 
could  not  be  induced  to  believe  the  report  of  the  Dutch  Am- 
bassador, that  by  the  coldness  of  the  winter,  water,  which 
always  appeared  to  him  in  a  state  of  fluidity,  could  ever  be- 
come so  hard,  as  to  sustain  upon  its  surface  a  loaded  wa- 
gon. He  could  form  no  idea,  of  the  manner  in  which  cold 
could  produce  such  a  wonderful  change  in  the  consistence 
of  water,  and  thence  concluded  that  it  was  impossible.  Un- 
philosophical  as  this  conclusion  was,  it  reveals  to  us  an  im- 
portant fact  in  the  science  of  the  human  mind,  viz.  in  what 
complete  ignorance  we  are  left  by  the  Creator,  in  regard  to 
the  operations,  as  well  as  the  whole  frame  and  organization 
of  nature,  until  by  experience  and  observation  of  phenome- 
na, we  have  learned  to  trace  back  effects  to  the  causes  that 
produce  them.  The  next  stage,  therefore,  in  our  progress  in 
human  knowledge,  is  to  endeavour  to  refer  eft'ects,  or  phe- 
nomena to  the  causes  that  produce  them,  and  at  this  point 
it  is,  that  the  inductive  method  of  Bacon  properly  com- 
mences. After  having  attained  to  an  acquaintance  with  the 
properties  of  substances,  and  their  operations  upon  each 
other,  we  next  commence  philosophers,  and  make  an  attempt 
to  class  the  phenomena  under  general  heads,  and  assign  the 
causes  that  operated  in  the  production  of  them.  This  \^  one 
of  the  efforts  of  reason,  deducing  its  lessons  from  an  obser- 


Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon.  313 

vation  of  facts.  We  are  not  any  longer  contented  with  re- 
marking, that  clouds  in  summer  dispense  to  us  rain,  and  in 
winter  snow;  that  the  tides  rise  and  fall;  that  lightning  in 
hot  weather  passes  from  the  clouds  to  the  earth;  that  the  sun 
retreats  in  the  fall,  and  returns  to  us  in  the  spring;  but  with 
the  zeal  of  Democrilus,  we  are  curious  to  ascertain  the  rea- 
son of  these  changes  and  revolutions  in  the  system.  Now, 
it  is  clear,  that  as  before  we  could  not  proceed  a  step,  in  en- 
larging our  acquaintance  with  nature,  without  the  aid  of  ex- 
perience; so  also,  here,  we  might  indulge  ourselves  in  end- 
less conjectures,  without  making  the  smallest  approach  to 
the  truth,  unless  we  devote  ourselves  sedulously  to  a  c©m- 
plete  collection  of  facts.  If  in  our  simplest  perceptions  we 
could  obtain  no  information,  save  from  a  consultation  of  na- 
ture, and  becoming  the  interpreters  of  her  signs,  how  shall 
we-expect  by  any  other  course  of  examination,  to  attain  to 
the  noblest  conclusions  of  the  understanding?  Here  it  is 
that  the  mind  of  man,  discovers  itself  brought  into  contest 
with  the  gigantic  strength  of  nature,  and  exhibiting  but  the 
feebleness  and  incapacity  of  an  infant,  can  accomplish  noth- 
ing, except  when  assisted  by  the  powerful  instrument  of  in- 
duction. What  kind  of  explanation  is  it  to  be  supposed, 
should  we  at  first  afford  of  the  several  phenomena  of  the 
generation  of  the  clouds,  of  the  flux  and  reflux  of  the  tides, 
of  the  recess  and  approach  of  the  sun,  during  his  passage  in 
the  ecliptic?  Surely  none  that  would  be  satisfactory;  and  the 
mind  of  man,  while  in  the  savage  or  barbarous  state,  failing 
at  once  in  its  endeavours  to  account  for  them,  would  seek  a 
refuge  from  its  incompetency  to  ti~ace  them  through  a  series 
of  natural  causes,  in  ascribing  them  immediately  to  the 
agency  of  superior  spirits;  and  Gods,  to  whom  he  would  pay 
adoration  and  worship,  would  be  imagined  to  take  under 
their  superintendance  and  control,  these  several  depart- 
ments of  the  system.  Reflecting  men,  however,  as  soon  as 
they  passed  out  of  this  state  of  savagism  to  one  of  civiliza 

R  r 


314  Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon. 

tion,  would  begin  to  trace  with  delight  the  chain  of  causes 
and  effects.  By  the  aid  of  this  engine  of  induction,  the  far- 
mer, although  unconscious  of  it,  would  deduce  all  his  max- 
ims of  husbandry,  would  observe  with  the  nicest  attention  the 
appearances  of  the  air  and  heavens,  and  learn  to  predict  the 
changes  of  the  seasons;  would  become  acquainted  with  the 
most  eligible  periods  of  sowing  his  seeds,  and  gathering  in 
his  crops,  and  with  the  operation  of  all  those  causes,  that 
contribute  to  diminish  or  augment  the  fruits  of  his  labour. 

Laying  hold  of  this  same  instrument,  the  philosopher  ex- 
plains all  the  most  interesting  and  stupendous  phenomena, 
the  flux  and  reflux  of  the  tidts,  those  of  thunder  and  light- 
ning, of  earthquakes  and  volcanoes,  the  sizes,  distances,  and 
revolutions  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 

We  have  seen  that  this  instrument,  although  unknown  to 
the  schools  for  so  many  ages,  was  in  the  most  fanailiar  use 
amongst  mankind;  let  us  now  proceed  more  fully  to  explain 
its  nature  and  application.  We  have  said,  that  the  great 
secret  in  the  inductive  method  of  philosophising,  consists  in 
drawing  no  conclusions  not  warranted  by  facts,  and  attempt- 
ing to  establish  no  principles  of  science,  but  upon  the  solid 
and  immovable  basis  of  experience  and  observation.  Noth- 
ing can  be  more  true  than  this,  and  nothing  more  indispen- 
sable, in  order  to  arrive  at  a  just  philosophy,  than  a  rigid 
and  persevering  adherence  to  this  method  of  inquiry.  After 
only  a  partial  or  incomplete  collection  of  phenomena,  if  we 
undertake  to  deduce  general  inferences,  or  what  Bacon  de- 
nominates his  axiomata  generalia,  we  sally  forth  into  the  dark, 
and  almost  always  arrive  at  erroneous  and  false  principles; 
or,  if  perchance  they  are  true,  we  cannot  repose  with  entire 
confidence  and  full  assurance  upon  them:  they  do  not  rest 
upon  the  sure  foundation  of  moral  certainty.  When,  there- 
fore, assuming  them  as  settled  and  established  truths,  we 
undertake  to  form  out  of  them,  as  is  usually  done,  the  axio- 
mata media  of  lord  Bacon,  or  intermediate  maxims  of  philo- 


Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon.  315 

sophy,  we  involve  ourselves  in  a  labyrinth  of  uncertainty, 
and  our  reasoning  being  vitiated  in  the  outset,  we  only 
plunge  more  and  more  deeply  into  error. 

On  the  other  hand,  let  us  reflect  upon  the  inductive  mode 
of  procedure.  Upon  this  plan,  freeing  our  minds  from  all 
errors  and  prejudices,  or  their  devotion  to  the  numerous 
idols,  as  the  abovementioned  author  calls  them,  which  occa- 
sion them  to  view  every  object  through  a  discoloured  medi- 
um, we  should  appear  at  the  entrance  of  the  dominions  of 
nature,  as  when  we  seek  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven, like  little  children,  if  we  are  desirous  to  gain  admit- 
tance. Homo,  naturae  minister  et  Interpres,  says  Bacon, 
tantum  facit  et  intelligit  quantum  de  naturae  ordine,  re  vel 
mente  observaverit;  nee  amplius  scit  aut  potest.  Nee  manus 
nuda,  nee  intellectus  sibi  permissus,  multum  valet;  instru- 
mentis  et  auxiliis  res  perficiturj  quibus  opus  est  non  minus 
ad  intellectum  quam  manum.  Causa  vero  et  radix  fere  om- 
nium malorum  in  scientiis  ea  una  est;  quod  dum  mentis  hu- 
manae  vires  falso  miramiis  et  extoUimus,  vera  ejus  auxilia 
non  queramus.  Ut  non  alius  fere  est  aditus  ad  regnum  homi- 
nis,  quod  fundatur  in  scientiis,  quam  ad  regnum  cselorum; 
in  quod  nisi  sub  persona  infantis,  intrare  non  datur. 

Thus  prepared  for  the  enterprise  in  which  we  are  engag- 
ing, we  should  proceed  in  the  interpretation  of  nature,  con- 
tinenter  et  gradatim,  cautiously  and  by  a  just  gradation;  first 
carefully  examining  all  the  phenomena  presented  to  cur  in- 
spection, comparing  with  the  utmost  attention  and  discrimi- 
nation, those  which  are  favourable  and  those  unfavourable; 
and  when  we  have  advanced  far  enough  in  the  matter  of  ob- 
servation and  experience,  settle  our  axiomata  media  or  in- 
termediate principles  of  science;  and  having  attained  to  this 
point  in  our  progress,  we  must  advance  with  equal  care  and 
attentive  collec  ion  of  facts,  to  our  axiomata  generalia  or  ge- 
neral principles.  And  when  by  this  process  we  have  remount." 
ed  to  great  maxims,  we  may  safely  take  a  retrograde  course 


316  Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon. 

and  apply  them  to  the  particular  cases  that  arise.  In  this 
path  certainty  attends  us  at  every  step;  in  the  other  we  soon 
wander  into  the  dark  and  intricate  by-ways  of  uncertainty 
and  error.  The  one  mode  is  like  building  a  house  out  of 
solid  materials,  and  ascending  by  regular  gradations  from 
the  foundation  to  the  top;  the  other  is  like  attempting  to  erect 
the  roof  and  its  appurtenances  upon  an  unfinished  founda- 
tion. Abstract  doctrines  are  best  illustrated  by  examples. 
In  Aristotle's  treatise  Dc  Cselo,  from  the  natural  effect  of 
the  principle  of  attraction,  and  the  circular  shadow  which  the 
earth  casts  upon  the  moon  during  an  eclipse,  he  deduced  the 
inference  that  the  earth  is  a  sphere,  contrary  to  the  opinion 
of  other  philosophers  of  his  time;  and  moreover,  that  it  is 
not  a  very  extensive  sphere  from  the  circumstance,  that  those 
stars  which  are  perceptible  to  the  observer,  in  one  degree  of 
latitude,  entirely  disappear,  when  he  is  removed  a  few  de- 
grees farther  to  the  north  or  south.  Here  we  have  a  speci- 
men of  a  complete  and  an  imperfect  induction  from  facts, 
which  at  the  same  time  that  it  displays  the  penetration  of  the 
Stagyrite,  exhibits  also  the  tendency  of  the  greatest  minds  to 
rush  precipitately  into  error,  when  they  release  themselves 
from  the  restraints  of  a  chaste  and  rigorous  investigation. 
The  circumstance  mentioned  by  Aristotle,  that  those  stars 
which  are  perceptible  to  the  observer  in  one  degree  of  lati- 
tude, entirely  disappear  when  he  is  removed  a  few  degrees 
farther  to  the  north  or  south,  shows  by  irresistible  force  of 
argument,  that  the  earth  is  not  a  very  extensive  sphere;  and 
the  consideration  urged  by  him  also  in  favour  of  the  spheri- 
city of  the  earth,  that  during  an  eclipse  it  casts  upon  the 
moon  a  circular  shadow,  is  one  of  the  best,  if  not  the  very 
best  proof,  of  which  the  science,  even  of  the  present  day,  is 
in  possession,  in  confirmation  of  that  doctrine.  But  upon 
the  principles  of  Aristotle,  that  the  earth  must  be  a  sphere 
because  all  bodies  are  attracted  towards  the  centre,  and  its 
shadow  upon  the  moon  is  circular,  it  ought   to  have  been  a 


Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon.  317 

perfect  globe,  whereas  subsequent  discoveries  of  science, 
have  shown  that  it  is  not  so,  but  a  spheroid,  or  flatted  at  the 
poles.  Here  we  see  that  Aristotle  rushed  too  precipitately  to 
his  axioma  generate,  the  earth  is  a  perfect  globe;  and  had  he 
proceeded,  as  is  usually  done,  to  form  out  of  this  proposition 
his  axiomata  media,  as  for  example,  that  all  bodies  around 
the  Earth's  surface  are  equally  remote  from  the  centre,  the 
degrees  of  latitude  at  the  poles  are  equal  to  those  at  the 
equator,  he  would  immediately  have  fallen  in  his  calcula- 
tions into  the  grossest  errors.  The  truth  is,  that  this  very 
propensity,  from  a  few  particular  instances  to  leap  to  general 
conclusions,  to  which  the  human  mind  finds  so  powerful  a 
temptation,  in  the  relief  which  they  afford  it  from  the  fatigue 
of  investigation,  is  the  bane  of  philosophy,  and  the  produc- 
tive cause  of  all  those  idle  theories  that  have  been  broached 
at  different  periods,  and  which,  after  glittering  for  a  while 
upon  the  scene,  and  attracting  the  gaze  of  mankind,  have 
then  vanished  from  the  view,  and  sunk  into  the  gulf  of  ob- 
livion. 

Does,  then,  this  philosophical  regimen  throw  us  under  such 
rigorous  restraints,  that  we  are  to  be  absolutely  and  peremp- 
torily prohibited  from  framing  any  theories,  or  making  any 
efforts  to  establish  systems,  however  verisimilar  they  may 
appear,  and  however  countenanced  by  facts,  from  an  appre- 
hension that  subsequent  discoveries  may  detect  their  fallacy, 
and  facts  afterwards  elicited  may  contradict  them?  By  no 
means.  A  few  simple  facts  may  lead  to  the  suggestion  of  a 
true  theory,  but  that  theory  should  never  be  received  as  true, 
until  substantiated  by  sufficient  proof. 

Newton,  it  is  said,  from  reflecting  on  that  remarkable  cir- 
cumstance of  the  tendency  of  all  bodies  to  the  centre,  was  led 
to  ask  himself,  why  may  not  this  property  of  attraction  which 
occasions  this  result  extend  itself  to  the  moon,  planets,  and 
even  to  the  sun  himself?  And  that  this  train  of  reflection  led 
him  on  to  that  discovery,  which  it  is  probable,  is  justly  re- 


318  Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Baeon. 

garded  as  the  greatest  ever  made  by  man.  It  is  to  be  re- 
marked, however,  that  he  did  not  assume  it  as  a  fact,  that 
the  principle  of  attraction,  as  it  is  found  upon  our  globe,  ex- 
tends its  influence  throughout  the  solar  system,  until  by  ir- 
refragable reasoning  he  had  demonstrated  the  truth  of  it. 
We  are  told,  that  when  it  first  suggested  itself  to  him,  he 
undertook  to  prove  it,  but  finding  himself  embarrassed  by 
difficulties  which  were  insuperable,  he  for  a  time  abandoned 
it  as  untenable,  until  from  a  more  extensive  acquaintance 
with  mathematical  science,  it  again  occurred  to  him  that  it 
was  true,  and  commencing  the  investigation  anew  with  those 
farther  lights  he  had  obtained,  he  found  the  proof  satisfac- 
tory. In  this  consisted  the  difference  between  the  system  of 
Newton  and  that  of  Des  Cartes,  Leibnitz  and  others;  the  one 
is  susceptible  of  strict  demonstration,  the  others  are  hypothe- 
ses assumed  without  proof;  and  although  they  may  serve  to 
explain  many  of  the  phenomena,  yet  being  unsubstantiated 
by  fact  and  argument,  must  ever  be  regarded  as  the  vision- 
ary schemes  of  ingenious  men,  rather  than  the  legitimate 
productions  of  nature,  and  the  faithful  interpretations  of  her 
oracular  voice.  A  few  facts,  therefore,  may  very  properly 
lead  to  the  conception  of  a  general  theory;  but  that  theory  ig 
not  to  be  admitted  except  it  be  demonstrated,  not  only  by  a 
few,  but  by  an  ample  induction  of  facts.  Harvey  is  said  to 
have  received  the  hint  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  from 
remarking  the  nice  and  curious  adjustment  of  the  valves  in 
the  veins,  that  prevent  the  return  of  the  blood  as  it  passes 
into  the  heart;  but  he  did  not  consider  his  doctrine  as  enti- 
tled to  the  attention  of  philosophers,  until  he  had  shown  it  to 
be  true  by  repeated  experiments  with  microscopes,  and  other 
methods.  Lord  Bacon  makes  a  distinction  between  experi- 
ence and  experimenting,  the  one  being  considered  as  con- 
sisting in  an  observation  of  those  appearances  which  nature, 
without  any  exertion  on  our  part,  spontaneously  exhibits  to 


Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon.  31* 

our  view;  the  other,  in  active  exertions  made  by  us  to  go  in 
pursuit  of  phenomena. 

Enough  has  now  been  alleged  to  enable  us  to  decide,  with- 
out much  difficulty,  it  is  presumed,  that  question  which  has 
been  lately  raised,  whether  the  modern  school  in  its  plan  of 
philosophical  investigation,  has  not  arrogated  to  itself  a  merit 
above  that  of  the  ancient,  to  which   it  is   not  entitled,  or  in 
other  words,  whether  Aristotle  was  not  acquainted  with  the 
inductive  method  of  lord  Bacon.  Dr.  Gillies,  the  intelligent 
and  able  translator  of  the  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy  of 
Aristotle,  in  his   analysis  of  his  works,   roundly    and   confi- 
dently asserts  that  he  was,  and  that  while  the  illustrious  En- 
glishman was  closely  copying  the  works  of  the  St^.gyrite,  he 
had  not  the  candor  and  ingenuousness  to  acknowledge  it,  but 
rather  indulges  himself  in  many  harsh  and  illiberal  criticisms 
of  the  Greek.     I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  if  Dr.   Gillies 
had  studied  the  works  of  Bacon,  with  the  same  care  and  at- 
tention as  he  had  those  of  Aristotle,  and  had  taken  pains  to 
enter  fully  into  the   views   of  the  former,  in  reference  to 
his  new  mode   of  inquiry,  he   would   not  have  done  him  so 
much  injustice,  but  have  come  to  a  very  different  conclusion. 
I  consider  the  method  of  induction  as  one   of  the  sublimest 
hints,  that  ever  entered  into  the  mind  of  man.     It  is  impos- 
sible to  say,  that  had  not  this  method  been  suggested  by  its 
author,  it  would  not  very  naturally  have  presented  itself  to 
some  other  fortunate  genius,  since  science  was   undoubtedly 
tending  towards  that  result  at  the  time;  and  the  insufficiency  of 
the  old  philosophy  having  been  ascertained  after  a  fair  trial, 
a  current  was  arising,  which  flowed  strongly  towards  the  in- 
vention and  introduction  of  the  new.     Roger  Bacon,  the  in-  I 
quisitive  and  able  predecessor  of  the  Chancellor,   and   who 
proved   himself  worthy   of  the    name    which    he   bore,   we ' 
know  was  so  frequent  and  successful  in  experimenting  as  to 
obtain  for  himself  the  honourable  appellation  of  the  magici- 
an; and  in  an  ignorant  and  credulous  age,  an  age  that  could 
believe  every  thing  but  what  was  true,  to  expose  himself  to 


320  Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon, 

persecution  on  account  of  his  researches.  Des  Cartes,  al- 
though, not  averse  from  hypothesis,  rejected  the  dogmas  of 
the  schools,  and  recommended  and  cultivated  the  study  of 
nature.  But  notwithstanding,  science  at  this  time  was  evi- 
dently verging  towards  a  reformation,  who  can  say  how  long 
it  would  have  been  before  philosophers  would  have  gotten 
into  the  right  way,  had  not  that  luminous  mind  appeared  that 
pointed  out  to  them  the  true  path  to  knowledge,  recom- 
mended them  to  pursue  it  with  all  the  graces  of  eloquence 
and  the  force  of  erudition,  and  rendered  them  enamoured  of 
the  prospects  of  those  great  rewards,  which  would  accrue  to 
them  from  their  successful  prosecution  of  it?  Let  not  the 
Englishman,  therefore,  be  denied  the  praise  which  he  has  so 
justly  merited.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  to  be  denied, 
that  we  can  scarcely  turn  over  a  page  of  the  works  of  Aris- 
totle, which  have  any  reference  to  nature,  but  we  find  an  im- 
mediate appeal  to  fact  and  experience.  It  is  certainly  true, 
what  has  been  happily  said  of  him,  that  if  he  did  not  inter- 
rogate nature,  he  listened  to  her  with  unremitted  attention. 
His  metaphysics,  his  moral  and  political  philosophy,  his 
treatise  De  Cselo,  de  anima,  his  mechanical  questions,  and 
in  truth,  all  those  of  his  works  in  which  it  was  his  purpose 
to  investigate  nature,  fully  attest  the  truth  of  this  observation. 
How,  then,  can  it  be  said  that  he  was  not  apprised  of  the 
method  of  induction?  The  mystery  is  readily  solved.  It  is 
a  very  different  thing  occasionally  to  have  had  recourse  to 
experience  and  observation,  in  order  to  confirm  his  doctrines, 
and  to  have  comprehended  this  method  as  the  only  legiti- 
mate vehicle  for  the  advancement  of  science.  We  have  be- 
fore seen  that  as  soon  as  man  passes  from  the  simplest  per- 
ceptions of  his  nature,  and  begins  to  make  inquiry  concern- 
ing the  operations  of  those  objects  upon  each  other  with 
which  he  is  daily  conversant,  he  is  obliged  to  have  recourse 
to  this  instrument,  in  order  to  arrive  at  any  of  those  maxims 
which  ordinarily  influence  his   conduct  in  life.     The  lessons 


Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon,  321 

of  wisdom  derived  from  the  intercourses  of  life,  of  husban- 
dry, of  moral  duty,  of  peace  and  war,  are  all  drawn  from 
this  source,  as  well  as  the  finest  speculations  of  science. 
Aristotle,  therefore,  in  his  physical  and  metaphysical  works, 
did  nothing  more  by  making  a  continued  appeal  to  nature, 
than  had  l^een  done  from  the  most  remote  periods  by  all  who 
undertook,  from  considering  the  principles  of  human  nature 
to  deduce  any  of  the  maxims  of  truth  and  duty,  or  explain 
any  of  the  appearances  of  the  earth  and  heavens.  This,  how- 
ever, is  a  very  different  thing  from  conceiving  the  sublime 
idea,  that  in  order  to  arrive  at  a  true  theory  of  nature,  or  es- 
tablish a  just  philosophy,  instead  of  relying  upon  our  own 
resources  and  ingenuity,  we  must  direct  our  inquiries  to  her 
alone,  and  from  her  responses  imbibe  all  our  lessons  of  in- 
struction. There  is  a  wide  and  most  essential  distinction 
between  directing  the  attention  of  the  mind  to  the  formation 
of  a  system,  and  occasionally  appealing  to  nature  only  to 
confirm  it,  and  directing  our  attention  onlv  to  the  collection 
of  phenomena,  on  which  alone  to  ground  our  conclusions. 
In  the  one  case,  we  shall  inevitably  be  led  to  spin  subtil  and 
ingenious  theories  out  of  our  own  brains,  and  then  constrain  all 
appearances  to  become  trii)utary  to  them;  in  the  other,  we 
shall  bend  our  own  opinions  to  facts.  The  one  mode  of  pro- 
cedure, has  led  to  the  adoption  of  numberless  hypotheses  that 
have  successively  appeared  upon  the  stage  of  human  life, 
and  then  perished  before  the  force  of  subsequent  inquiry, 
the  other  since  the  time  of  Bacon,  has  been  leading  to  the 
most  important  and  interesting  discoveries. 

Thus  we  have  endeavoured,  as  far  as  we  are  able,  to  ex- 
plain what  is  implied  in  the  inductive  method  of  investiga- 
tion. It  implies  the  exercise  of  reason,  ascending  to  and  es- 
tablishing the  great  principles  of  science  from  an  observation 
of  the  appearances  of  nature,  and  inferring  the  causes  of 
things  from  a  rigorous  examination  of  effects.  The  only  way 
in  which  an  argument  of  this  kind  can  be  invalidated,  is  by 

s  s 


522  Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon. 

the  exhibition  of  contradictory  instances  or  facts;  and  in  this 
case,  we  must  always  limit  our  conclusions  according  to  the 
number  and  force  of  these  instiinces  or  facts. 

Upon  a  review  of  the  whole  subject,  it  will  appear,  that 
all  those  branches  of  science  must  rest  upon  induction,  in 
wh.ich  the  object  of  pursuit  is,  the  investigation  of  either 
moral  or  physical  nature.  Natural  and  moral  philosophy, 
ch\  mistry,  medicine,  rhetoric,  as  far  as  the  rules  which  it 
prescribes  are  founded  in  the  principles  of  human  nature, 
political  science,  in  which  case  the  statesman  finds  the  whole 
history  of  man  unfolding  to  him  its  ample  page,  and  com- 
prising an  interesting  series  of  moral  experiments  from  \^hich 
his  lessons  may  be  educed;  all  these  are  dependent  for  their 
sublimest  maxims  of  truth  and  expedienc)'  upon  the  induc- 
tive method  of  investigation.  Not  a  single  step  can  be  taken 
or  attainment  made  in  any  of  these  branches  of  science,  with- 
out the  aid  of  this  powerful  instrument.  And  when  we  re- 
flect upon  the  future  probable  progress  of  philosophy,  and  con- 
sequ'  fit  extension  of  the  dominion  of  man  over  nature,  from 
the  influence  of  this  wonder-working  engine,  if  skilfully  and 
sedulously  employed,  the  mind  is  filled  with  the  most  sub- 
lime anticipations.  Upon  this  method  of  procedure,  there 
are  no  limits  to  be  set  to  the  advances  which  may  be  made 
by  continued  accumulations  to  the  stock  of  human  know- 
ledge. Here  we  attain,  in  truth  and  sincerity,  to  what  was 
onh  assumed  for  purposes  of  deception  and  imposture,  in 
the  days  of  pagan  ignorance  and  superstition,  the  art  of  va- 
ticination. Induction,  is  the  pillar  of  cloud  that  shall  con- 
du<-t  us  by  a  slow  but  sure  progress,  through  many  a  devious 
track,  indeed,  and  arduous  ascent  in  the  wilderness  of  na- 
ture, until  at  length  we  reach  those  exalted  heights  from 
which,  like  Moses  upon  the  top  of  Pisgah,  we  may  catch  a 
view  of  the  promised  land  of  truth  and  knowledge,  where 
the  deepest  mysteries  shall  be  revealed  to  us,  and  in  a  kind 
of  philosophic  vision,  from  a  contemplation  of  the  past  and 


Of  the  Inductive  Method  of  Lord  Bacon.  323 

present,  be  able  to  predict  the  future.  It  is  a  voyage  of  dis- 
covery, a  project  of  circumnavigating  the  whole  globe  of  na- 
ture in  quest  of  materials,  out  of  which  to  construct  the  solid 
fabric  of  learning.  It  is  the  commencement  of  a  campaign, 
furnished  with  armour  that  renders  us  invincible,  where  vic- 
tory after  victory  may  be  obtained,  and  conquest  after  con- 
quest achieved.  In  a  word,  induction,  is  the  great  vehicle 
by  which  in  all  the  branches  of  modern  science,  such  won- 
ders have  been  accomplished.  It  was  by  the  maftterlv  use 
of  this  instrument,  that  Newton  unfolded  to  the  astonishment 
of  mankind,  the  awful  and  hitherto  impenetrable  mysteries 
of  the  physical  world;  while  Locke  successfully  pursued  his 
way  through  those  dark  and  shady  paths  in  the  dominions 
of  the  moral,  which  appeared  impervious  to  the  view  and 
inaccessible  to  the  footsteps  of  men;  and,  in  fine,  that  all  the 
modern  investigators  of  nature,  have  so  triumphantly  ex- 
tended their  researches  into  her  most  hidden  and  remote  de- 
partments. 


CHAPTER  IV 


Reasoning  from  Analogy. 

Connected  with  the  system  of  induction,  as  a  mean  of 
acquiring  information,  though  not  amounting  to  so  high  a 
degree  of  proof  or  to  as  strong  probability,  is  that  of  analo- 
gical reasoning.  This  too  is  a  mode  of  arriving  at  conclu- 
sions to  which  we  give  assent,  and  in  which  our  understand- 
ings repose  confidence,  of  very  early  origin  in  the  progress 
of  human  improvement.  As  soon  as  the  philosopher  or 
primitive  man,  whom  we  have  before  introduced  upon  the 
stage  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  began  to  collect 
the  lessons  of  experience,  he  would  naturally  endeavour  to 
extend  his  maxims  beyond  his  own  experience  and  observa- 
tion, and  make  them  comprehend  cases  that  were  similar. 
From  the  circumstance  that  the  fruit  which  he  found  upon 
the  tree,  was  wholesome  in  its  operation  upon  his  body  and 
those  of  his  immediate  companions,  he  would  conclude  that 
it  would  be  so  to  all  other  human  beings  like  himself;  if  he 
'found  a  few  animals  or  plants,  of  a  species  innocent  or  nox- 
ious, he  would  extend  the  same  properties  to  others  that  re- 
sembled them.  This  is  reasoning  from  analogy.  And  if  it 
be  thought  from  the  consideration,  that  when  we  have  seen 
any  cause  produce  a  particular  effect,  whenever  we  see  the 
same  cause  afterwards,  we  are  prone  to  expect  the  same  ef- 
fect to  accompany  it,  that  there  is  need  of  the  supposition  of 
an  inductive  principle  in  our  nature:  from  our  proceeding 
so  immediately  to  reasoning  from  analogy,  there  ought  to  be 
also  an  analogical  one.     There  is  no  need,  however,  of  the 


326  Reasoning jrom  Anology, 

assumption  of  either,  in  order  to  account  for  these  re«5ults, 
as  they  naturally  arise  out  of  the  exercise  of  right  reason 
deducing  its  inferences  from  an  observation  of  facts,  and  the 
order  and  constitution  of  nature.  The  ground  on  which  all 
analogical  reasoning  must  rest,  is  the  uniformity  of  the  con- 
stitution and  laws  of.  nature;  and  as  there  is  undoubtedly 
very  great  uniformity  in  these  respects  in  the  system,  this 
reasoning  is  not  always  to  be  rejected,  although,  as  it  may 
so  readily  lead  us  into  error,  it  should  be  indulged  with  the 
greatest  caution,  and  circumspection.  The  savage  tribes 
for  instance,  who  lived  along  the  Allantick  coast,  from  ob- 
serving that  the  tides  rose  and  fell  in  all  the  rivers  with 
which  they  were  acquainted,  might  have  inferred  from  analo- 
gy, that  the  same  changes  took  place  in  all  other  rivers:  but 
this  would  be  an  errontous  coiulusion,  as  this  is  not  the  case 
universally.  The  medicinal  roots  which  in  one  disease  had 
been  found  efficacious,  would,  in  like  manner,  be  consider- 
ed by  them  as  applicable  in  others  in  which  they  might  be 
injurious  or  fatal.  Into  a  thousand  errors  of  this  nature, 
mankind  would  undoubtedly  be  betrayed  from  their  imper- 
fect acquaintance  with  the  objects  around  them.  The  rea- 
soning from  mere  analogy  should,  therefore,  be  very  spar- 
ingly indulged,  and  diligently  tested,  before  it  be  admitted 
as  a  sufficient  ground  of  assent.  And  yet  it  is  not  to  be  de- 
nied that  in  many  cases,  it  may  furnish  us  with  evidence  en- 
tirely satisfactory  to  the  understanding,  although  it  can 
never  amount  to  demonstrative  certainty.  Who,  in  visiting 
a  new  and  undiscovered  country  would  not  be  assured,  that 
if  there  were  any  inhabitants  living  on  it,  they  would  prove 
to  be  precisely  such  beings  as  the  rest  of  his  species  with 
whom  he  had  been  before  conversant,  and  would  not  dis- 
credit the  report  of  a  voyager  who  should  assert,  that  he 
had  discovered  a  race  of  creatures,  holding  the  rank  of  ours, 
but  totally  unlike  them  in  form,  features,  understandings, 
passions,   ideas,   and  habits?     Have  we  any  doubt,   that  in 


Reasoning  from  Analogy.  32^ 

those  northern  and  southern  regions,  not  yet  explored  by 
civilized  man,  all  the  phenomena  of  the  earth  and  heavens 
are  exactly  the  same  as  in  the  climates  we  inhabit,  that  they 
have,  in  like  manner  with  us,  thunder  and  lightning,  clouds, 
rain,  hail  and  snow,  rivers,  mountains,  and  cultivable  soils? 
Nay,  to  extend  the  matter  beyond  our  sphere,  I  presumethere 
is  scarcely  any  <'ne  who  doubts  that  the  planets  ihat  compose 
the  solar  system,  as  Mercury,  Mars,  Venus,  Jupiter,  and 
Saturn,  and  all  the  rest,  are  filled  with  beings  similar  to 
those  of  our  globe;  since  like  it  they  evidently  move  round 
the  sun,  which  is  the  sourse  of  light  and  heat  to  them,  turn 
upon  their  axis,  some  at  less  and  others  at  greater  intervals 
than  our  earth,  have  atmospheres,  reflect  light,  some  of  them 
have  moons,  and  in  so  many  respects  are  similarly  situated 
with  our  globe?  And  yet  all  these  things  rest  solely  up- 
on analogy.  Analogies  in  many  cases  are  the  only  ground 
on  which  we  can  rest  an  opinion,  and  in  cases  where  we  are 
obliged  to  enter  into  important  measures,  and  perform  ne- 
cessary and  interesting  acts.  The  physician  trusts  to  it 
when,  after  much  observation  and  frequent  dissections  of 
human  bodies,  he  concludes  that  the  same  component  parts 
are  found  In  the  bodies  of  all  human  beings,  and  that  the 
functions  performed  by  them  are  the  same;  and  when  to 
different  men  he  prescribes  the  same  remedies,  which  he  had 
before  found  to  effect  a  cure,  or  furnish  relief  to  his  patients, 
taking  care,  at  the  same  time,  to  limit  his  practice  by  a  con- 
sideration of  the  various  constitutions,  temperaments  and 
ha')iis  of  men.  1  he  politician  presumes  upon  it  when,  avail- 
ing himself  of  the  lessons  collected  from  induction,  he  cal- 
culates that  measures,  which  have  been  found  salutary  or 
mischievous  among  one  people,  will  be  attended  with  the 
same  or  similar  consequences  among  those  for  whom  it  is 
his  province  to  legislat,i;  the  historian  depends  upon  analogy, 
when  he  endeavours  to  trace  back  effects  to  their  causes  in 
the  history  of  mankind,  and  develop  the  great  sources  of  the 


^28  Reasoning  from  Analogy. 

decline  and  fall,  or  the  rise  and  prosperity  of  nations;  the 
orator  when  he  draws  from  his  own  mind,  those  considera- 
tions of  truth  and  expediency,  of  duty  and  interest,  by 
which  he  expects  to  influence  the  minds  of  other  men;  the 
seaman  rests  upon  the  evidence  of  analogy,  when  he  unfurls 
his  sails,  and  lanches  into  the  deep,  under  the  expectation, 
that  winds  will  arise  to  waft  him  to  his  port;  the  husband- 
man when  he  sows  his  seed,  upon  the  presumption  that  the 
rains  as  usual  will  descend,  and  the  dews  fall,  and  the  sun 
shine  and  fructify  the  soil,  and  cause  them  to  rise,  bud,  and 
produce  his  harvest;  the  grammarian  is  frequently  constrain- 
ed to  resort  to  it,  in  settling  the  principles  of  philology,  and 
the  judge  in  establishing  and  applying  the  great  maxims  of 
jurisprudence.  In  many  of  the  most  important  transactions 
of  life,  analogy  is  the  only  light  to  guide  us;  and,  although 
not  furnishing  one  entirely  competent  to  the  illumination  of 
our  path,  is  the  best  we  are  able  to  obtain.  In  any  given 
subject,  the  more  frequent  the  cases  in  the  reasoning  from 
analogy  have  been  found  to  hold,  the  more  convincing  does 
it  become.  Every  new  instance  of  its  truth,  gives  addition- 
al force  to  it,  until  at  length  by  continually  repeated  exam- 
ples, there  is  no  longer  room  left  for  doubt.  After  so  many 
renewed  dissections  of  the  human  body,  in  all  of  which  the 
same  constituent  parts  have  been  found  to  belong  to  it,  it  can 
now  scarcely  admit  a  shadow  of  doubt  that  the  like  would 
be  found  in  the  whole  race.  The  more  strict  the  resem- 
blance also,  the  stronger  still  will  become  the  argument. 
The  ancients  fell  into  error  when,  having  never  seen  the  hu- 
man subject  exhibited  by  the  anatomist,  they  undertook, 
from  a  view  of  those  of  inferior  animals,  to  extend  their  con- 
clusions by  analogy  to  the  species  of  men.  Here  it  ought 
to  have  been  perceived  that  the  analogy  is  too  distant  to  be 
trusted. 

Whenever,  therefore,  we  reason  from  what  we  have  seen 
of  the  constitution  and  laws  of  nature,  to  what  is  probable 


Reasoning  from  Analogy.  32d 

of  that  constitution  and  laws  in  similar  circumstances.  This 
constitutes  an  argument  from  analogy.  And  while  it  is  evi- 
dent that,  for  the  most  part,  these  analogies  do  not  form  a 
foundation  sufficiently  solid  on  which  to  build  a  rational  con- 
fidence, and  are  better  fitted  to  furnish  similitudes  to  the  poet 
or  agreeable  sallies  to  the  wit,  than  materials  out  of  which 
the  philosopher  is  to  construct  his  theories;  yet,  in  many  in- 
stances, they  may  become  an  instrument  of  no  inconsiderable 
power,  in  the  confirmation  of  truth  and  detection  of  error. 
If  this  method  of  reasoning  furnish  us  not  with  an  armour 
strong  enough  for  purposes  of  attack  and  invasion,  it  becomes 
irresistible  as  a  weapon  of  defence  and  protection.  In  Bishop 
Butler's  analogy  of  natural  and  revealed  religion,  we  see  a 
masterly  use  of  this  instrument  in  vindicating  from  objections 
the  authority  of  Divine  Revelation.  If  it  can  be  shown,  that 
the  same  objections  which  are  alleged  against  the  Patriarchal, 
Mosaic,  and  Christian  Dispensations  as  proceeding  from 
God,  according  to  the  account  contained  in  the  scriptures, 
would  apply  with  equal  force  against  the  whole  frame  and 
organization  of  both  the  physical  and  moral  world,  and  the 
Divine  administration  in  them,  which  almost  all  allow  to 
proceed  from  God,  surely  our  religion  stands  impregnably 
fortified  on  this  quarter  from  the  attacks  of  her  enemies. 
With  a  single  example  by  way  of  illustration,  we  dismiss  the 
subject.  The  scriptures,  we  are  told,  cannot  be  the  word  of 
God,  because  we  are  there  informed,  that  the  Creator  order- 
ed Moses  to  exterminate  the  nation  of  the  Canaanites, 
thereby  involving  the  innocent,  and  even  women  and  chil- 
dren in  the  same  indiscriminate  ruin,  with  its  depraved  in- 
habitants. We  answer,  by  way  of  analogy,  that  however 
strange  and  unaccountable  this  may  seem  at  first  viev/,  it 
forms  no  valid  objection  to  the  truth  and  divine  authority  of 
the  scripture  history;  since  in  the  works  of  nature  we  find 
similar  proceedings  of  the  Supreme  Being,  who  sometimes 
makes  one  nation  during  the  purity  of  its  morals,  and  sim- 

T  t 


330  Reasoning  from  Analogy. 

plicity  of  its  habits^  the  instrument  by  which  another,  that  is 
effeminate  and  corrupt,  is  chastised  and  overthrown;  and  even 
in  the  physical  world,  when  earthquakes,  volcanoes  and  in- 
undations take  place,  they  destroy  alike  innocent  women 
and  children,  and  the  more  vicious  part  of  mankind.  Is  not 
the  conclusion  irresistible,  that  if  it  be  a  sufficient  argument 
to  prove  that  the  Bible  is  not  the  word  of  God,  that  God  there 
is  represented  as  giving  a  commission  to  Moses  to  extir- 
pate the  corrupt  nation  of  Canaan,  the  same  mode  of  reason- 
ing would  justify  the  inference,  that  he  is  not  the  author  and 
governor  of  the  system  of  moral  and  physical  nature,  since 
we  see  effects  precisely  of  a  piece  with  that  event  produced 
in  them? 


CHAPTER  V. 

Demonstrative  Reasoning,  and  Intuitive  Ceitainty. 

Passing  from  the  shadowy  regions  of  conjecture  and  pro- 
bability, we  next  come  to  those  which  are  illuminated  by  a 
clear  and  full  light.  As  experimental  philosophy,  which  we 
nave  admitted,  can  never  amount  to  absolute  demonstration, 
although,  sometimes  furnishing  an  evidence  entirely  suffi- 
cient to  satisfy  the  mind,  rests  upon  our  sensitive  knowledge, 
or  that  knowledge  which  is  derived  to  us  through  the  senses, 
so  all  demonstrative  certainty  rests  ultimately  upon  intui- 
tion. By  intuition  is  meant,  that  act  of  the  mind  by  which 
it  perceives  the  truth  of  any  proposition,  as  sooh  as  it  is 
propounded,  without  exertion  or  examination.  It  may,  I 
think,  be  justly  regarded  as  the  simplest  effort  of  reason,  the 
great  power  with  which  we  are  endowed  by  our  Creator, 
for  the  search  and  discovery  of  truth.  In  matters  of  expe- 
rimental knowledge,  reason  has  to  derive  its  materials  from 
experience  and  observation,  and  on  them  alone  to  ground  its 
conclusions;  in  matters  of  demonstration  and  entire  certain- 
ty, it  grounds  them  upon  intuitive  evidence,  and  its  office  is 
to  trace  the  connection  of  our  ideas,  or  what  is  the  same 
thing,  the  habitudes,  correspondences,  and  relations  of  things. 
Things  equal  to  the  same  thing,  are  equal  to  one  another; 
if  from  equal  quantities  the  same  quantity  be  taken,  the  re- 
mainders will  be  equal.  These  are  said  to  be  intuitive  truths, 
or  axioms,  because  thev  are  at  once  perceived  by  the  mind, 
by  a  single  glance  of  attention,  and  flash  with  a  light  upon 
it  that  is  irresistible.     This  Avorld  must  be  the  workmanship 


332  Demonstrative  Reasoning^ 

of  a  Divine  Contriver;  men  are  accountable  to  their  Creator 
for  their  conduct.  These  are  truths  also  perfectly  certainj 
but,  although  susceptible  of  complete  proof,  their  evidence 
does  not  so  instantaneously  force  conviction  upon  the  mind, 
as  in  the  cases  before  mentioned.  They  are,  on  this  account, 
denominated  demonstrable  truths.  The  mind  has  to  exert 
itself,  and  go  in  quest  of  intuitive  truths,  by  which  to  prove 
them.  The  perception  of  intuitive  truths,  therefore,  may  be 
justly  regarded  as  the  first  and  simplest  exercise  of  reason, 
while  its  more  complex  acts  consist  in  searching  out  things, 
that  are  unknown  from  those  that  are  known.  The  most 
certain  of  all  those  trutlis,  with  which  the  human  mind  is 
conversant,  are  those  that  are  intuitive.  In  tracing  this  kind 
of  truth,  it  is,  as  it  appears  to  me,  that  the  methods  of  ana- 
lysis and  synthesis,  have  place  in  the  greatest  propriety  of 
language.  I  know  that  the  greatest  philosophers  have  ap- 
propriated the  terms  also  to  other  branches  of  science,  and 
others,  who  have  followed  them  in  this  track,  have  not  al- 
ways nicely  discriminated  between  the  two  modes  of  inves- 
tigation, but  have  used  the  terms  with  great  confusion  and 
ambiguity,  some  m  .king  that  to  be  the  synthetical  method, 
which  others  have  resolved  into  the  analytical.  Newton,  in 
his  Opticks,  as  quoted  by  Dr.  Johnson  in  his  Dictionary, 
defines  the  "  analysis  to  consist  in  making  experiments  and 
observations,  and  in  drawing  general  conclusions  from  them 
by  induction,  and  admitting  of  no  objections,  but  such  as  are 
taken  from  experiments  or  other  certain  truths."  The  same 
author  makes  synthesis  to  consist  in  assuming  the  causes 
discovered  and  established  as  principles,  and  by  them  ex- 
plaining the  phenomena  proceeding  from  them,  and  proving 
the  explanations.  According  to  this  illustrious  man,  then, 
while  we  are  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  science,  or  the  causes 
of  things,  by  experiment  and  observation,  or  what  Bacon,  as 
we  before  showed,  calls  his  axiomata  generalia,  general 
maxims,  we  are  following  the  analytical  method;  but  when 


And  Intuitive  Certainty.  .  333 

we  come  to  assume  those  causes  or  general  truths,  as  alrea- 
dy ascertained,  and  undertake  to  apply  them  to  the  solution 
of  other  phenomena,  we  are  pursuing  the  synthetical.  This 
distinction  is  intelligible,  although  not  exactly  suited  to  the 
original  meaning  of  the  terms,  and  in  its  application  to  prac- 
tice, likely  to  give  rise  to  great  ambiguity  and  uncertainty. 
It  will  readily  be  perceived,  also,  by  those  who  have  taken 
the  pains  to  enter  into  the  full  import  and  extent  of  lord  Ba- 
con's method  of  induction,  that  both  the  analytical  and  syn- 
thetical method,  as  thus  represented  by  Newton,  are  includ- 
ed in  it.  It  implies  both  a  full  and  complete  collection  of 
facts  by  experiment  and  observation,  drawing  conclusions 
from  them;  and  then  finally,  the  application  of  the  principles 
thus  ascertained,  to  other  facts  that  may  arise.  To  explain 
the  matter  by  an  example — Franklin  was,  according  to 
Newton,  pursuing  the  analytical  method,  while  making  ex- 
periments in  electricity,  by  which  he  discovered,  first,  the 
existence  of  the  electric  fluid,  then  its  identity  with  light- 
ning: and  he  was  following  the  synthetical,  when,  having 
proved  the  existence  of  such  a  cause,  he  explained  the  phe- 
nomena of  lightning,  meteors,  the  Aurora  Borealis,  &c. 
Perhaps,  however,  it  would  serve  to  give  more  clearness  to 
our  conceptions,  and  relieve  us  from  all  ambiguity  in  the  use 
of  words,  than  which  nothing  can  be  of  more  importance  in 
philosophy,  if  the  whole  of  that  process  of  investigation,  by 
which  we  become  the  interpreters  of  nature,  or  make  disco- 
veries in  the  moral  and  physical  world,  should  be  denomi- 
nated induction;  while  the  terms  analysis  and  synthesis,  are 
limited  to  signify  those  methods,  by  which  we  trace  the 
relations  of  things,  and  the  necessary  connexion  of  our 
ideas.  Analysis,  as  the  etymology  of  the  term  indicates, 
implies  the  decomposition  or  loosening  asunder,  of  that  which 
is  compound  into  its  simple  elements,  while  synthesis,  as 
its  derivation  also  denotes,  expresses  directly  the  contrary 
process,  viz.  the  composition  of  what  is  very  complex,  out 


334  Demonstrative  Reasoning', 

of  a  number  of  simple  ingredients.  In  taking  my  watch  to 
pieces,  and  exposing  to  view  the  parts  of  which  it  is  com- 
posed in  regular  succession,  I  follow  the  method  of  analy- 
sis; when,  on  the  other  hand,  I  put  all  its  parts  together 
again,  and  after  adjusting  them  in  their  places,  form  them 
into  a  complete  time-piece,  I  pursue  the  method  of  synthe- 
sis. When  complex  truths,  therefore,  are  resolved  into 
those  simple  ones,  of  which  they  are  composed,  it  is  the 
analytical  mode  of  procedure;  but  when  we  advance  from 
the  simple  to  the  complex,  the  synthetical. 

In  this  part  of  knowledge,  it  is,  if  any  where,  that  we 
should  expect  the  syllogistic  art  to  become  useful,  in  tracing 
the  necessary  connexion  of  our  ideas,  and  the  immutable  ha- 
bitudes and  relations  of  things.  In  the  experimental  sciences, 
it  is  evidently  futile,  and  even  positively  injurious,  as  it  is 
apt  to  lead  us  too  precipitately  and  incautiously,  to  establish 
general  principles.  In  the  language  of  Bacon,  in  his  novum 
organum;  sicut  scientige  quge  nunc  habenter,  inutiles  sunt 
ad  inventionem  operum,  ita  logica  quae  nunc  habetur,  inuti- 
lis  est  ad  inventionem  scientiarum.  Logica  quae  in  usu  est 
ad  errores  stabiliendos  et  figendos  valet,  potius  quam  ad  in- 
quisitionem  veritatis;  ut  magis  damnosa  sit  quam  utilis. 
Syllogismus  ad  principia  scientiarum  non  adhibetur,  ad  me- 
dia axiomata  frustra  adhibetur,  cum  sit  subtilitate  naturae 
longe  impar;  assensum  itaque  constringit  non  res.  After 
the  truth  has  been  ascertained,  a  syllogism  may  serve  to 
place  it  in  such  an  undeniable  form,  as  shall  preclude  the 
possibility  of  doubting  it,  and  silence  gainsayers  and  scep- 
tics; but  in  that  effort  of  understanding  by  which  truth  is  in- 
vestigated, it  cannot  prove  of  the  smallest  advantage,  and  in 
fact  has  nothing  to  do.  Syllogism  is  intended  by  its  author 
and  his  followers,  to  become  an  aid  to  reason,  but  of  what 
advantage  can  we  imagine  were  syllogisms  to  Newton,  in  his 
discovery  of  the  theory  of  gravitation,  or  Harvey  in  tracing 
the  circulation  of  the  blood?     One  of  the  greatest  faults  of 


And  Intuitive  Certainty,  335 

Aristotle,  is,  his  continued  attempt  to  apply  the  rules  of  this 
art,  even  in  his  natural  and  moral  researches,  and  this  cir- 
cumstance gives  to  his  deepest  inquiries  on  those  topics,  the 
air  of  a  frivolous  and  quibbling  logic.  Primi  generis,  says 
Bacon,  exemplum  in  Aristotele  maxime  conspicuum  est, 
qui    philosophiam  naturalem  dialectica  sua  corrupit. 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  in  the  pursuits  of  natural  phi- 
losophy, in  all  its  branches,  whether  relative  to  matter  or 
mind,  all  of  which  are  admitted  to  rest  only  upon  probabili- 
ty, and  where  some  suspense  of  judgment  is  presupposed, 
while  we  are  engaged  in  the  prosecution  of  facts,  the  art  of 
syllogising  is  worse  than  useless,  it  is  absolutely  pernicious. 
It  may  assist  us  in  dogmatising,  but  can  furnish  no  aid  to- 
wards a  solution  of  the  phenomena  of  nature.  Nor  can  it 
be  more  useful  in  those  branches  of  learning,  whose  pro- 
vince it  is  to  trace  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  our 
ideas,  or  to  establish  immutable  and  eternal  truths.  If  there 
be  supposed  to  be  any  power  or  force  in  a  syllogism,  as  an 
auxiliary  to  reason,  it  lends  its  reinforcement  at  too  late  a 
period  of  our  contest  with  truth,  to  contribute  in  any  degree 
to  our  victory.  Reason  has  obtained  the  mastery,  and  traced 
the  connexion  of  ideas,  or  arrived  at  the  conclusion,  before 
the  syllogism  furnishes  her  its  support.  Take  the  simplest 
example  that  can  be  conceived,  in  order  to  test  the  force  of 
the  syllogistic  art,  with  which  learned  Sorbonnists  have  made 
such  a  pother  in  the  world;  and  by  the  adroit  use  of  which, 
like  expert  fencers,  they  could  attack,  repel,  make  and  parry 
strokes,  and  after  they  were  foiled  or  completely  vanquish- 
ed, still  maintain  the  contest  with  zeal  unabated,  and  with 
chivalry  undaunted.  Suppose,  for  example,  in  the  case  usu- 
ally enunciated  in  the  received  systems  of  logic,  that  we 
wish  to  trace  the  connection  between  man  and  accountable- 
ness,  or  determine  whether  man  be  accountable  for  his  ac- 
tions. Here  the  mind  sets  itself  to  work,  to  discover  what 
those  considerations  are,  v/hich  render  a  being  such  as  man 


336  Demonstrative  Reasonings 

accountable  for  his  conduct.  It  soon  discovers,  that  in  order 
that  he  should  be  justly  accountable  to  his  Creator,  he  must 
be  possessed  of  reason  to  enable  him  to  know  good  and  evil, 
or  to  distinguish  what  is  virtuous  and  vicious  in  human  con- 
duct: and  also  of  freedom  of  choice,  to  adhere  to  the  one  and 
avoid  the  other.  Perceiving,  then,  that  there  enter  into  the 
idea  of  accountableness,  both  reason  and  liberty,  and  at  the 
same  time,  that  these  are  privileges  that  belong  to  mankind, 
he  at  once  concludes,  that  men  are  accountable  for  their  ac- 
tions. Now  let  this  subject  be  resumed  by  the  syllogistic 
art,  and  it  immediately  hastens  to  a  general  proposition,  and 
then  applying  that  proposition  to  the  race  of  men,  finds  that 
it  agrees  with  them:  and  thence,  from  this  comparison  and 
perception  of  agreement,  deduces  its  inference  in  due  form 
and  figure. 

Every  creature  possessed  of  reason  and  liberty  is  accounta- 
ble for  his  actions: 

Man  is  a  creature  possessed  of  reason  and  liberty, 
Therefore  man  is  accountable  for  his  actions. 

Such  is  the  form  and  substance  of  a  syllogism.  Now  it  may 
here  be  asked,  of  what  advantage  in  this  case,  is  the  syllo- 
gism? It  certainly  did  not  contribute  in  any  degree  towards 
furnishing  us  with  the  intermediate  ideas,  reason  and  liberty, 
by  the  intervention  of  which,  we  have  been  able  to  trace  the 
connection  between  man  and  accountableness.  It  as  certainly 
did  not  enable  us  to  perceive,  that  these  properties  belonged 
to  mankind.  All  this  preparatory  process  towards  our  con- 
clusion was  gone  through  by  our  reasoning  powers,  which  by 
an  energy  with  which  they  are  endowed,  enable  us  to  trace 
the  agreement,  or  disagreement  of  our  ideas.  After  we  had 
arrived  at  our  conclusion,  by  the  interposition  of  our  medius 
terminus,  or  intermediate  ideas,  the  syllogism  simply  redu- 
ces the  whole  process  to  a  regular  form.  Could  any  thing- 
be  more  shallow  and  nugatory  than  such  an  art?     But  it  ma)- 


And  Intuitive  Certainty*  337 

be  remarlced,  that  our  syllogism  is  not  merely  useless,  as 
contributing  nothing  towards  the  result,  but  is  positively 
injurious,  as  it  rushes  to  a  general  proposition,  to  obtain  its 
major;  every  creature  possessed  of  reason  and  liberty,  is 
accountable  for  his  actions.  Hence  the  justness  and  force 
of  the  observation  of  Bacon,  assensum  constringit  non  res. 
It  waits  not  for  the  slow  progress  of  reason  and  experience 
before  it  leaps  to  its  conclusions,  than  which  propensity  noth- 
ing can  be  more  incompatible  with  the  true  spirit  of  philoso- 
phy. Hence  the  syllogistic  art  will  ever  be  found  to  minis- 
ter as  successfully  to  the  maintenance  of  error,  as  the  sup- 
port of  truth.  All  a  rhetorician's  rules,  says  the  poet,  with 
the  lawless  license  of  his  profession,  teach  nothing  but  to 
name  his  tools.  What  is  thus  said  of  rhetoric,  without  any 
aptness  of  similitude,  or  justness  of  application,  may  be  just- 
ly applied  to  logic,  except  so  far  as  it  consists  in  tracing  the 
progress  of  the  human  mind,  in  the  pursuit  and  acquisition 
of  knowledge.  The  sum  of  the  whole  matter  is,  that  if  we 
wish  to  become  good  reasoners,  we  need  not  expect  to  do  so 
by  studying  the  rules  of  logic,  or  becoming  skilful  in  the 
management  of  syllogisms,  but  by  replenishing  our  minds 
with  a  plentiful  stock  of  intermediate  ideas,  from  observation 
and  reflection;  by  studying  the  authors  most  remarkable  for 
profound  thought,  and  close  and  accurate  investigation;  and 
lastly,  by  cultivating  the  habits  of  reasoning  from  frequent 
practice,  so  as  to  strengthen  and  invigorate  our  natural  parts. 
It  seems  that  Aristotle  devoted  so  much  labour  to  the  re- 
ducing of  syllogistic  reasoning  to  a  regular  art,  in  order  to 
refute  the  sophisms  of  those  philosophers  in  his  time,  who 
were  not  ashamed  to  deny  any  thing;  and  Mr.  Locke,  while 
he  decries  this  method  in  every  other  respect,  admits  that 
to  stop  the  mouths  and  silence  the  objections  of  sceptics,  it 
may  be  of  some  service.  And  yet  it  may  be  asked,  of  what 
possible  use  can  the  reducing  of  our  thoughts  to  syllogisms 
be  in  convincing  an  adversary,  since  if  he  does  not  allow  the 

u  u 


338  Demonstrative  Reasonings 

force  of  those  intermediate  ideas  or  proofs,  which  we  ad- 
duce to  demonstrate  any  proposition,  he  will  not  be  more  in- 
clined to  it,  when  we  have  modelled  them  into  syllogistic 
form.  In  the  example  alleged  above,  if  he  did  not  agree, 
that  every  being  possessed  of  reason  and  liberty  is  account- 
able for  his  actions,  would  you  convince  him  of  man's  ac- 
countability, by  putting  it  into  a  syllogism?  Surely  not.  Un- 
der every  aspect  of  this  matter,  therefore,  I  cannot  but  con- 
clude with  lord  Kaims,  that  "  Aristotle's  artificial  mode  of 
reasoning,  is  no  less  superficial  than  intricate.  The  proposi- 
tions he  attempts  to  prove  by  syllogism,  are  all  self-evident. 
Takr  for  example,  the  following  proposition,  "  that  man  has 
the  power  of  self-motion.  To  prove  this  he  assumes  the  fol- 
lowing maxim,  upon  which,  indeed,  every  one  of  his  syllo- 
gisms is  founded,  that  whatever  is  true  of  a  number  of  par- 
ticulars joined  together,  holds  true  of  every  one  separately .'' 
Dr.  Gillies  in  animadverting  upon  this  passage  of  his  lord-, 
ship's  works,  speaks  in  the  following  terms — "  It  would  have 
been  charitable  in  this  acute  author,  to  have  pointed  out  the 
passage  in  which  Aristotle  maintains,  that  because  it  is  true 
of  a  number  of  particulars  joined  together,  that  they  are  an 
hundred  or  a  thousand,  the  same  holds  true  of  every  one  of 
them  separately.  It  is  impossible  to  restrain  indignation  at 
such  unmeaning  jargon,  poured  out  against  the  most  accu- 
rate of  all  writers."  Dr.  Gillies  here  rather  ungenerously 
avails  himself  of  an  ambiguous  expression  of  lord  Kaims,  to 
detect  a  fallacy  in  his  reasoning,  when  the  slightest  reflec- 
tion must  have  convinced  him  that  his  sentiment,  when  right- 
ly interpreted,  is  just.  He  means  nothing  more  in  this  pas- 
sage, than  what  Mr.  Locke  had  before  asserted,  that  in  eve- 
ry syllogism  there  must  enter  one  general  proposition,  in 
which  something  is  severally  affirmed  or  denied,  of  all  the 
particulars  that  compose  a  genus,  species,  or  collection  of 
objects,  and  must  of  consequence  be  true  of  each  of  those 
particulars,  when  separately  taken.  This  is  the  very  founda- 


And  Intuitive  Certainty,  339 

tion,  upon  which  all  syllogistic  argument  rests,  and  it  is  not 
to  be  denied,  that  it  is  as  shallow,  as  the  divisions  of  syllo- 
gisms into  such  a  complication  of  modes  and  figures,  is  in- 
tricate and  obscure.  The  world  is  much  indebted  to  Dr. 
Gillies,  for  the  pains  he  has  taken,  and  the  ability  he  has 
discovered,  in  throwing  light  upon  the  writings,  and  repro- 
ducing in  an  English  translation,  some  of  the  works  of  the 
most  obscure  of  all  authors.  He  has  given  us  access  with 
much  less  trouble  than  formerly,  to  some  of  the  most  useful 
and  profound  speculations  of  the  Stagyrite;  but  at  the  same 
time  the  observation  cannot  be  withheld,  that  from  his  trans- 
lation, we  can  form  no  conception  of  the  style  and  peculiar 
manner  of  the  Greek  author.  His  translation  is  characteriz- 
ed by  a  splendour  of  imagery  and  parade  of  expiession,  al- 
together unlike  his  original,  and  exhibits  to  our  view  noth- 
ing less  than  the  Hercules  of  antiquity,  decorated  with  the 
costume,  and  assuming  the  air  and  graces  of  modern  fash- 
ion. 

The  Dr.'s  bold  and  confident  mode  of  expressing  himself, 
is  not  a  little  remarkable.  In  one  place  we  find  him  assert- 
ing, "  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  Aristotle  did  precisely  that 
which  he  is  blamed  by  Bacon,  Hobbes  and  Mallebranche, 
for  not  doing;  and  declared  it  impossible  to  do  that  which 
he  is  blamed  for  having  attempted."  In  another,  "  Rapin, 
and  the  French  philosophers,  generally  treat  the  Stagy- 
rite  with  great  unfairness,  and  speak  of  his  opinions  with 
the  greatest  ignorance,  their  accounts  of  him  being  disgraced 
by  great  inaccuracies."  Again.  "  In  one  place,"  says  he,  "  had 
Mr.  Locke  known  what  Aristotle  meant  by  motion,  his  can- 
dour would  not  have  allowed  him  to  speak  of  this  definition 
as  he  does."  In  another,  "  The  intrepid  ignorance  of  Voltaire, 
might  maintain,  that  Aristotle  considered  light  as  a  quality 
merely;  and  that  luminous  and  coloured  bodies,  ."ind  quali- 
ties exactly  such  as  they  excited  the  ideas  of  in  us.  But  how 
could   the  learned  Warburton  assent  to  this   erroneous  ac- 


340  Demonstrative  Reasonings  ££?c, 

count  of  the  Peripatetick  philosophy!"  It  is  not  to  be  doubt- 
ed, that  Aristotle's  doctrines  have  been  too  generally  taken 
from  the  schoolmen,  his  false  interpreters;  yet  we  are  inclin- 
ed to  think,  that  if  it  does  not  indicate  intrepid  ignorance, 
it  at  any  rate  requires  intrepid  pretensions  to  learning,  to 
speak  so  confidently  in  disparagement  of  the  opinions  of  so 
many  able  and  illustrious  men,  and  more  especially  in  refer- 
ence to  the  works  of  an  author,  the  most  intricate  and  ob- 
scure of  all  others.  And  with  respect  to  the  last  point,  in 
which  the  learned  Warburton  is  said  to  have  countenanced 
the  opinion  of  the  French  philosopher,  that  Aristotle  consi- 
ders light  as  a  property  of  bodies,  while  we  really  do  be- 
lieve, that  the  sentiment  ascribed  to  him  by  Dr.  Gillies  is 
correct,  viz.  that  it  is  a  medium  by  which  objects  are  ren- 
dered visible;  yet  we  cannot  help  remarking,  that  such  is 
the  obscurity  of  his  language,  when  treating  of  this  subject, 
that  two  men,  who  had  embraced  opposite  views  of  it,  might 
dispute  about  the  doctrine  of  the  Stagyrite,  until  doomsday, 
with  all  the  dexterity  of  the  schoolmen,  and  at  last  be  una- 
ble to  decide  the  controversy. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Of  First  Principles,  Axioms,  mid  Maxims  of  Science. 

Nothing  would  seem  more  certain,  than  that  every  branch 
of  sound  science  must  rest  ultimately  upon  first  principles, 
or  propositions,  whose  truth  is  either  intuitively  discerned 
or  previously  admitted.  This  is  equally  undeniable,  whether 
we  prosecute  our  inquiries,  by  means  of  the  analytical  or 
synthetical  method.  If  we  pursue  the  synthetical  method, 
in  order  to  give  satisfaction  to  the  understanding,  we  must 
commence  with  those  simple  propositions,  whose  truth  is 
intuitively  perceived  or  previously  allowed,  and  from  these 
advance  by  just  gradations,  until  we  arrive  at  the  most  com- 
plex and  recondite  maxims;  if  the  analytical,  we  must  re- 
solve complicated  maxims  into  those  simple  propositions, 
whose  truth  is  self-evident  or  admitted.  In  each  case,  there- 
fore, the  effort  of  our  understandings,  in  order  to  attain  sa- 
tisfaction, is  to  arrive  at  intuitive  or  undeniable  truth.  This 
is  a  doctrine  in  which  all  the  best  philosophers,  from  the 
days  of  Aristotle,  to  those  of  Newton  and  Locke,  with  one 
consent,  agree.  All  the  difficulty  and  doubtfulness,  which 
have  been  introduced  into  a  subject  so  extremely  simple  by 
the  Scottish  metaphysicians,  has  arisen,  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  from  mere  misconception  of  the  principles  of  New- 
ton and  Locke.  In  explaining  the  principles  of  these  philoso- 
phers, then,  on  this  subject,  we  think  we  shall  contribute 
sufficiently  to  its  elucidation. 


342  Of  First  Principles^ 

The  term  axiom,  as  it  is  used  in  mathematical  works,  and 
from  these  the  same  meaning  of  it  has  been  transferred  to 
the  other  branches  of  science,  implies  a  theoretical  proposi- 
tion, whose  truth  is  intuitively  discerned,  or  in  other  words, 
is  so  cle;ir  and  undeniable,  that  it  flashes  irresistible  convic- 
tion upon  the  understanding.  This  is  the  present  significa- 
tion of  the  term,  but  I  apprehend  not  the  original  meaning 
of  the  one  from  which  it  is  derived.  The  latin  word  axioma, 
taken  from  the  Greek,  and  translated  axiom  or  maxim,  de- 
notes any  truth  or  principle,  which  is  either  intuitive  or  de- 
monstrable, or  founded  upon  experience,  and  exactly  corres- 
ponds to  our  term  maxim  as  now  generally  used.  Lord  Ba- 
con frequently  makes  use  of  the  terms  axioma  and  axiomata 
in  his  latin  treatises;  and  we  are  not  aware  that  he  could  have 
selected  a  better  term  in  that  language  with  which  to  convey 
his  meaning.  He  always  understands  by  it,  some  maxim  or 
principle  of  science  established  by  induction,  as  in  the  passa- 
ges before  quoted  from  him.  That  the  heavenly  bodies 
gravitate  towards  each  other  according  to  settled  laws  of 
attraction,  and  that  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  tides  in  our 
rivers  are  caused  by  the  united  influence  of  the  sun  and  moon, 
are,  what  lord  Bacon  would  denominate  axiomata  generalia 
or  general  maxims  of  science,  and  they  are  derived  solely 
from  an  induction  of  facts.  The  reader  will  readily  perceive, 
therefore,  that  there  are  two  different  meanings  annexed  to 
the  term  axioms  in  scientific  Avorks;  the  one  in  which  it  is 
miade  equivalent  to  self-evident  truths,  as  in  mathematical 
works;  the  other  in  which  it  is  synonimous  to  maxims  or 
principles  of  science,  in  which  sense  it  may  or  may  not  be 
regarded  as  implying  self- evidence,  as  in  the  tracts  of  lord 
Bacon.  Considering  this  circumstance,  the  criticisms  of 
professor  Stewart  upon  the  use  of  tliis  term  by  Sir  Isaac 
Newton,  in  his  principia  and  optics,  might  have  been  spared. 
They  evidently  arose  out  of  a  want  of  a  just  comprehension 
of  the  meaning  annexed  to  it  by   that  plnlosopher.     When 


Axioms y  and  Maxims  of  Science*  343 

Newton,  for  instance,  gives  the  name  of  axioms  to  his  laws 
of  motion,  or  in  the  beginning  of  his  optics,  prescribes  as 
axioms  the  following  propositions:  "  that  the  angles  of  reflec- 
tion and  refraction  lie  in  the  same  plane  with  the  angle  of 
incidence;  that  the  a^gle  of  reflection  is  equal  to  the  angle  of 
incidence;  that  refraction  out  of  a  rarer  medium  is  made 
towards  the  perpendicular,  and  such  like,  it  is  evident  that  he 
could  not  have  considered  such  propositions  as  axioms,  in 
the  technical  meaning  of  the  word  in  books  of  mathematics; 
but  merely  as  equivalent  to  the  term  maxims,  or  principles 
of  science  which  are  undeniable.  In  this  signification  of  the 
word,  he  seems  strictly  to  follow  the  authority  of  lord  Bacon, 
whose  works  he  evidently  understood,  and  whose  method  of 
philosophizing  called  induction,  it  was  his  province  to  carry 
into  natural  philosophy. 

After  this  explication  of  the  term,  we  proceed  to  contro- 
versies drawing  after  them  more  important  consequences. 

It  has  been  made  a  question,  whether  axioms,  self-evident 
maxims,  or  first  principles,  as  they  are  called,  lie  at  the  foun- 
dation of  the  sciences.  The  doctrines  of  Mr.  Locke,  on  this 
subject,  in  our  estimation,  have  been  controverted  and  deni- 
ed only  from  being  misapprehended.  We  shall  first  state 
them,  and  then  endeavour  to  show  that  they  are  not  to  be 
overthrown. 

Mr.  Locke  maintains,  that  those  maxims  which  are  usual- 
ly received  as  axioms,  as,  for  example,  that  whatsoever  is, 
is;  it  is  impossible  for  the  same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be; 
if  equals  be  taken  from  equals,  the  remainder  will  be  equalj 
which  because  of  the  self-evidence  that  accompanies  them, 
are  considered  innate,  are  not  innate,  but  like  all  our  other 
ideas  acquired  by  experience  and  reflection. 

2dly.  He  maintains,  that  these  axioms  or  maxims,  which 
terms  he  takes  as  equivalent,  have  no  more  self-evidence  in 
them,  than  many  other  propositions,  not  so  frequently  con- 
sidered as  such. 


344  Of  First  Principles^ 

3dly.  He  asserts,  that  these  general  maxims  are  not  so  soon 
known  to  the  mind,  as  the  particular  propositions  compre- 
hended under  them, 

4thly.  He  maintains,  that  no  science  has  been  built  upon 
such  maxims  as  those  above  mentioned. 

In  all  these  propositions,  we  contend,  that  when  rightly 
understood,  he  has  advanced  nothing  but  the  truth. 

In  the  first  three  of  these  propositions,  Dr.  Reid  agrees 
with  Mr.  Locke;  but  imagines,  that  he  has  found  an  incon- 
sistency in  the  following  passages.  In  book  4,  ch.  2,  of  his 
treatise,  Mr,  Locke  says,  "  There  is  a  part  of  our  knowledge 
which  we  call  intuitive — In  this  the  mind  is  at  no  pains  in 
proving  or  examining,  but  perceives  the  truth  as  the  eye 
does  light,  only  by  being  directed  towards  it.  And  this  kind 
of  knowledge  is  the  clearest  and  most  certain  that  human 
nature  is  capable  of.  This  part  of  knowledge  is  irresistible, 
and  like  bright  sunshine,  forces  itself  immediately  to  be  per- 
ceived, as  soon  as  ever  the  mind  turns  its  view  that  way." 
He  further  observes,  "  that  this  intuitive  knowledge  is  ne- 
cessary to  connect  all  the  steps  of  a  demonstration."  Upon 
these  two  passages.  Dr.  Reid  makes  the  following  observa- 
tions— "  From  this  I  think,  it  necessarily  follows,  that  in 
every  branch  of  knowledge  we  must  make  use  of  truths  that 
are  intuitively  known,  in  order  to  deduce  from  them  such  as 
require  proof."  But  I  cannot  reconcile  this  with  what  he 
says  Sect.  8th,  of  the  same  chapter.  "  The  necessity  of  this 
intuitive  knowledge,  in  every  step  of  scientifical  or  demon- 
strative reasoning,  gave  occasion,  I  imagine,  to  that  mistaken 
axiom,  that  all  reasoning  was  ex  prsecognitis  et  prseconcessis, 
which,  how  far  it  is  mistaken,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  show 
more  at  large,  when  I  come  to  consider  propositions,  and 
particularly  those  propositions  which  are  called  maxims;  and 
to  show  that  it  is  by  a  mistake  that  they  are  supposed  to  be 
the  foundation  of  all  our  knowledge  and  reasonings."  Dr. 
Reid   imagines,  that  he  has  detected  an   inconsistency  be- 


Axioms  y  a7id  Maxims  of  Science*  345 

tween  these  two  positions  of  Mr.  Locke's  work;  inasmuch 
as  in  the  one  he  asserts,  that  all  our  abstract  knowledge  com- 
mences in  intuitive  certainty,  and  that  intuitive  certainty, 
which  like  bright  sunshine  forces  itself  upon  the  mind  with 
irresistible  light,  and  moreover  that  this  intuitive  certainty 
must  accompany  us  through  all  the  steps  of  a  demonstration; 
and  in  the  other,  that  the  maxim  is  mistaken  which  supposes 
all  reasoning  to  be  ex  prsecognitis  et  prseconcessis.  There  is, 
it  is  certain,  an  apparent  inconsistency  in  this  representation} 
but  it  is  merely  apparent.  Had  Dr.  Reid  attended  a  little 
more  closely  to  the  meaning  of  Mr.  Locke,  as  explained  by 
himself  in  different  parts  of  his  works,  he  would  easily  have 
seen  this  slight  difficulty  solved,  and  this  apparent  inconsis- 
tency reconciled.  Mr.  Locke  does  not  mean  to  assert,  that 
all  our  reasonings  must  not  commence  in  first  principles,  for 
this  truth  he  expressly  recognises  in  several  parts  of  his 
work;  but  that  they  do  not  rest  upon  what  were  generally 
deemed  the  prsecognita  and  prseconcessa  of  the  schools,  and 
the  philosophers  with  whom  he  is  contending;  that  is,  the 
maxims,  which  we  have  before  enumerated,  and  which,  by 
some,  were  made  the  foundations  of  all  science.  Hear  his 
very  expressions — "  The  necessity  of  this  intuitive  know- 
ledge in  every  step  of  scientific  or  demonstrative  reasoning 
gave  occasion,  I  imagine,  to  that  mistaken  axiom,  that  all 
reasoning  was  ex  prsecognitis  et  prfeconcessis,  which,  how  far 
it  is  mistaken,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  show  more  at  large, 
when  I  come  to  consider  propositions  and  particularly  those 
propositions  which  are  called  maxims."  Now,  look  at  what  he 
says  in  his  chapter  upon  maxims,  and  his  drift  becomes  as 
clear  as  day4ight.  "  The  rules  established  in  the  schools,'^  says 
he,  "  in  that  chapter,  that  all  reasons  are  ex  priecognitis  et 
prgeconcessis,  seem  to  lay  the  foundation  of  all  other  know- 
ledge in  these  maxims,  and  to  suppose  them  to  be  prpecog- 
nita;  whereby  I  tb.ink  are  meant  these  tv.'O  things.  First., 
that  these  axioms  are  those  truths  that  are  first  known  to  the 

X  X 


346  Of  First  Principles^ 

mind.  Secondly,  that  upon  them  the  other  parts  of  our  know- 
ledge depends." 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  Mr.  Locke  does  not  deny  but 
expressly  admit,  that  first  or  intuitive  truths,  are  the  founda- 
tion of  all  our  knowledge;  but  only  that  these  general  max- 
ims, whatever  is,  is,  and  the  like,  are  the  prsecognita  or  prse- 
concessa  upon  which  our  knowledge  is  built.  He  maintains, 
and  with  a  force  of  evidence  which  no  philosopher  can  re- 
sist, that  these  general  maxims  are  not  first  known  to  the 
mind,  but  rather  the  particular  propositions  included  under 
them.  For  instance,  the  child  would  know  that  the  two  ap- 
ples which  it  had,  if  both  equal  to  a  third,  would  be  equal  to 
each  other,  long  before  it  knew  or  felt  the  force  of  the  gene- 
ral proposition,  things  equal  to  the  same  thing  are  equal  to 
one  another.  No  one  can  deny  the  truth  of  such  a  doctrine, 
who  has  the  slightest  acquaintance  with  the  structure  and 
operations  of  the  human  mind.  This  is  a  branch  of  Mr. 
Locke's  opinions,  which  were  opposed  to  those  who  main- 
tained, that  man  had  originally  innate  ideas  and  innate  max- 
ims,both  of  which  doctrines  he  has  most  successfully  exploded. 

The  next  objection  of  Dr.  Reid  to  Mr.  Locke's  doctrine 
on  this  point  is;  "  that  he  maintains,  no  science  is  or  hath  been 
built  upon  maxims."  The  Dr.  here  also  does  not  correctly 
state  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Locke.  That  writer  does  not  main- 
tain, that  no  science  is  or  hath  been  built  upon  maxims  or 
first  truths  of  some  kind,  but  upon  such  maxims  or  general 
truths  as  those  before  mentioned;  whatever  is,  is;  and  it  is 
impossible  for  the  same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be,  and  the  like. 
"  Surely  Mr.  Locke,"  continues  the  Dr.,  "  was  not  igno- 
rant of  geometry,  which  hath  been  built  upon  maxims  pre- 
fixed to  the  elements,  as  fiir  back  as  we  are  able  to  trace  it. 
But  though  they  had  not  been  prefixed,  which  was  a  matter 
of  utility  rather  than  necessity,  yet  it  must  be  granted,  that 
every  demonstration  in  geometry  is  grounded  either  upon 
propositions  formerly  demonstrated,  or  upon  self-evident  prin- 


Axioms^  afid  Maxims  of  Science,  347 

ciples."     The  Dr.  seems  to  labour  under  a  very  great  mis- 
conception of  Mr.  Locke's  views,  or  he  must  have  discerned 
that  this  writer  would  have  acknowledged  with  him,  the  last 
part  of  his  assertions,  "  that  every  demonstration  in   geome- 
try is  grounded  either  upon   propositions  formerly   demon- 
strated, or  upon  self-evident  principles,"  and  yet  have  denied 
the  truth  of  his  first  position,  "  that   geometry  is  built  upon 
those  maxims  or  general  propositions  prefixed  to   the  Ele- 
ments of  Euclid."     It  is  one  thing  to  maintain,  that  all  the 
propositions  in  Euclid  are  founded  upon  self  evident  truths, 
which  is  undeniable;  and  it  is   quite    a  different  one  to  as- 
sert, that  they  are  all  founded  in  the  postulates  and  axioms, 
which  he  states  in  the  commencement  of  his  treatise,  which 
would  not  be  true.     Upon  the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke,  and 
the  more  they  are  understood  the  more  conclusive  will  they 
be  found,  lay  aside  all  the  postulates  and  axioms  of  Euclid, 
and  the  propositions  which  he  demonstrated  would  be  no  less 
cUar  and  satisfactory  to  the  understanding.  Nothing  can  be 
more  certain  than  this  statement  of  the  matter,  when  rightly 
apprehended.     For  example,  take  any  two   arbitrary  points, 
as  A.  and  B.  at  some  distance  from  each  other.     Now  is  it 
not  as  certain  that  these   two  points  may  be  joined  together 
by  a  right  line,  as  that  the  first  postulate  is   true,  which  re- 
quires it  to  be   granted,  that  a  straight  line  may  be   drawn 
from  any  one  point  to  any  other  point?     Does  a  recurrence 
to  the  postulate   render  the  matter  any  more  clear  or  incon- 
trovertible?    The  same  remark   will  apply  to  all  the   other 
postulates  as  well  as  axioms.     Take  the  first  axiom  also  by 
way  of  illustration.    When  I  have  shown  that  two  triangles, 
whose  properties  1  am  examining,  are  each  equal  to  the  same 
square  or  parallelogram,  am  I  not  as  sure  that  they  are  equal 
to  each  other,  as  when  I  have  recurred  to  the  general  maxim 
in  confirmation  of  this  truth,  that  things  equal  to   the   same 
thing  are  equal  to  one  another?     In  a  word,  is   not  the    cer- 
tainty, which  is  found   in   a  particular  proposition  which  \% 


348  Of  First  Prhiciples, 

self-evident,  as  great  as  that  which  accompanies  the  general? 
And  is  ^not  the  general  proposition,  maxim,  or  axiom,  derived 
from  the  particular,  and  not  the  particular  from  the  general? 
Of  this  philosophers  at  the  present  day  ought  scarcely  to  en- 
tertain a  doubt.  For,  as  Mr.  Locke  justly  remarks,  "  in  par- 
ticulars our  knowledge  begins,  and  so  spreads  itself  by  de- 
grees to  generals;  though  afterwards  the  mind  takes  quite  a 
contrary  course,  and  having  drawn  its  knowledge  into  as 
general  propositions  as  it  can,  makes  those  familiar  to  its 
thoughts,  and  accustoms  itself  to  have  recourse  to  them,  as 
to  the  standards  of  truth  and  falsehood."  And  here  too  we 
may  perceive  distinctly  pointed  out  the  use  and  advantage 
of  postulates  and  axioms  in  mathematical  science.  If  they 
cannot  assist  the  mind  in  attaining  to  the  truths  of  that  sci- 
ence, and  do  not  form  the  basis  upon  which  it  rests  any  more 
than  many  other  propositions  equally  evident  with  them- 
selves, they  may  be  of  very  great  service  when  rendered  fa- 
miliar to  the  learner,  to  be  appealed  to  as  the  standards  of 
truth  and  falsehood,  and  as  Mr.  Locke  observes,  to  stop 
the  mouths  of  wranglers,  and  put  an  end  to  controversy. 
Should  any  one,  for  instance,  become  sceptical  and  captious 
enough  to  deny  what  is  cleaily  self-evident,  an  appeal  to  a 
general  maxim,  whose  justness  and  force  he  had  been  ac- 
customed to  recognise,  might  bring  him  to  a  right  perception 
of  the  matter,  and  expose  to  him  the  fallacy  and  absurdity  of 
his  objections. 

Let  it  then,  be  distinctly  understood,  that  Mr.  Locke,  with 
all  good  philosophers  admits,  that  all  science  must  rest  upon 
first  principles,  or  self-evident  propositions,  or  propositions 
which  must  be  taken  for  granted,  and  for  which  we  have  no 
proof,  except  the  light  of  that  evidence,  which  shines  around 
them.   • 

The  first  principles,  however,  upon  which  he  considers  all 
knowledge  as  founded,  are  not  those  general  maxims  so  much 
spoken  of  in  the  schools,  but  those  particular  and  simple 


Axioms^  and  Maxims  of  Science.  349 

truths  that  enter  into  every  subject  which  we  attempt  to  in- 
vestigate; and  which,  instead  of  being  limited  to  the  small 
number  attempted  to  be  enumerated  in  books  are  almost 
numberless.  For  example,  the  truths  contained  in  Euclid's 
Elements  of  Geometry,  although  they  rest  upon  intuitive 
certainty,  have  no  more  immediate  connection  with  the  ax- 
ioms and  postulates  with  which  he  commences  his  treatise, 
than  with  many  other  propositions  equally  intuitive  with 
themselves.  "  Farther,  it  is  evident,"  says  Mr.  Locke,  book 
4,  ch.  12,  "  that  it  was  not  the  influence  of  those  maxims, 
which  are  taken  for  principles  in  mathematics,  that  hath  led 
the  masters  of  that  science,  into  those  wonderful  discoveries, 
they  have  made.  Let  a  man  of  good  parts  know  all  the  max- 
ims generally  made  use  of  in  mathematics  never  so  perfectly, 
and  contemplate  their  extent  and  consequences  as  much  as 
he  pleased,  he  will,  by  their  assistance,  I  suppose,  scarce 
ever  come  to  know,  that  the  square  of  the  hypothenuse  in  a 
right  angled  triangle,  is  equal  to  the  squares  of  the  other 
sides.  The  knowledge  that  the  whole  is  equal  to  all  its  parts, 
and  if  you  take  equals  from  equals,  the  remainder  will  be 
equal,  &c.  helped  him  not,  I  presume,  to  this  demonstration. 
And  a  man  may,  I  think,  pore  long  enough  on  these  axioms, 
without  ever  seeing  one  jot  the  more  of  mathematical  truth. 
They  have  been  discovered  by  the  thoughts  otherwise  ap- 
plied; the  mind  had  other  objects,  other  views  before  it,  far 
different  from  those  maxims,  when  it  first  got  the  knowledge 
of  such  kind  of  truths  in  mathematics."  That  is  to  say,  the 
mind  in  tracing  the  agreement  and  disagreement  of  its  ideas 
in  order  to  the  making  of  discoveries  in  mathematics,  as  for 
instance,  in  discovering  that  the  square  of  the  hypothenuse 
in  aright  angled  triangle  is  equal  to  the  squares  of  the  other 
two  sides,  did  not  have  recourse  to  any  of  the  axioms 
or  postulates  so  formally  laid  down,  but  followed  its  natural 
train  of  thoughts  suited  to  lead  it  on  to  that  kind  of  conclu- 
sion, or  commencing  in  those  particular  propositions  suited 


3)0  Of  Fir.vt  Principles, 

to  the  subject,  passed  from  those  which  were  intuitively  cer- 
tain to  those  that  resulted  from  them  by  irresistible  inference, 
until  at  length  it  was  conducted  to  the  desired  result.  Thus 
all  the  propositions  of  Euclid  may  have  been  proved,  as  well 
as  the  Pythagorean,  without  the  philosopher  having  once 
thought  of  those  general  propositions,  called  maxims  or 
axioms.  Of  consequence  these  axioms  cannot  be  considered 
as  the  foundation  of  mathematical  science.  The  same  re- 
marks would  apply  to  all  the  other  branches  of  science.  Are, 
then,  it  may  be  asked,  these  postulates  and  axioms  in  ma- 
thematics, and  first  truths  in  all  the  sciences,  of  no  import- 
ance? And  are  they  so  formally  prescribed  by  philosophers 
only  in  empty  ostentation? 

Mr.  Locke  distinctly  understood,  acknowledged,  and  ex- 
plained their  uses.  "  They  are  of  use,"  says  he,  in  his  Trea- 
tise on  Maxims,  "  in  the  ordinary  method  of  teaching  the 
sciences  as  far  as  they  are  advanced,  but  of  little  or  no  use 
in  advancing  them  farther.  When  schools  were  erected,  and 
sciences  had  their  professors  to  teach  what  others  had  found 
out,  they  often  made  use  of  maxims:  z.  e.  laid  down  certain 
propositions  which  were  self-evident,  or  to  be  received  for 
true,  which  being  settled  in  the  minds  of  their  scholars,  as 
unquestionable  verities,  they  on  occasion  made  use  of,  to 
convince  them  of  truths  in  particular  instances,  that  were 
not  so  familiar  to  their  minds  as  those  general  axioms  which 
had  before  been  inculcated  to  them,  and  carefully  settled  in 
their  mind." 

2dly,  "  They  are  of  use  in  disputes,  for  the  silencing  of 
obstinate  wranglers,  and  bringing  those  contests  to  some  con- 
clusions. Whether  a  need  of  them  to  that  end,  came  not  in, 
in  the  following  manner,  I  crave  leave  to  inquire.  The 
schools  having  made  disputation  the  touchstone  of  men's 
abilities,  and  the  criterion  of  knowledge,  adjusted  victor  to 
him  that  kept  the  field,  and  he  that  had  the  last  word,  was  con- 
cluded to  have  the  better  of  the  argument,  if  not  of  the  caust-- 


Axioms^  and  Maxims  of  Science.  351 

But  because  by  this  means  there  was  like  to  be  no  decision 
between  skilful  combatants,  whilst  one  never  failed  of  a  me- 
dius  terminus  to  prove  any  proposition,  and  the  other  could 
as  constantly,  without  or  with  a  distinction,  deny  the  major 
or  minor.  To  prevent  as  much  as  could  be  the  running  out 
of  disputes  into  an  endless  train  of  syllogisms,  certain  general 
propositions,  most  of  them,  indeed,  self-evident,  were  intro- 
duced into  the  schools;  which,  being  such  as  all  men  allow- 
ed and  agreed  in,  were  looked  on  as  general  measures  of, 
truth,  and  served  instead  of  principles  (where  the  disputants 
had  not  laid  down  any  other  between  themj  beyond  which 
there  was  no  going,  and  which  must  not  be  receded  from  by 
either  side.  And  thus  these  maxims  getting  the  name  of 
principles,  beyond  which  men  in  dispute  could  not  retreat, 
were  by  mistake  taken  to  be  the  originals  and  sources  from 
whence  all  knowledge  began,  and  the  foundations  whereon 
the  sciences  were  built."  This  view  of  the  matter  recom- 
mends itself  by  its  own  intrinsic  evidence,  to  the  minds  of  all 
persons  who  have  studied  and  understood  this  subject.  How 
idle  after  all  this,  appear  the  strictures  of  Dr.  Reid  upon  this 
part  of  Mr.  Locke's  principles?  In  essay  7,  ch.  6,  of  his  In- 
tellectual and  Active  Powers,  he  says — "■  Mr.  Locke  farther 
says,  that  maxims  are  not  of  use  to  help  men  forward  in  the 
advancement  of  the  sciences,  or  new  discoveries  of  yet  un- 
known truth;  that  Newton,  in  the  discoveries  he  made  in  his 
never  enough  to  be  admired  book,  has  not  been  assisted  by 
the  general  maxims,  whatever  is,  is;  or  the  whole  is  greater 
than  a  part,  or  the  like.  I  answer,  the  first  of  these  is,  as 
was  before  observed,  an  identical,  trifling  proposition  of  no 
use  in  mathematics  of  any  other  science.  The  second  is  often 
used  by  Newton  and  by  all  mathematicians,  and  many  de- 
monstrations rest  upon  it.  In  general,  Newton,  as  well  as  all 
other  mathematicians,  grounds  his  demonstrations  of  mathe- 
matical propositions  upon  the  axioms  laid  down  by  Euclid, 
or  upon  propositions  which  have  before   been   demonstrated 


352  Of  First  Principles^ 

by  help  of  those  axioms.  But  it  deserves  to  be  particularly- 
observed,  that  Newton,  intending  in  the  third  book  of  his 
Principia,  to  give  a  more  scientific  form  to  the  physical  part 
of  astronomy,  which  he  had  at  first  composed  in  a  popular 
form,  thought  proper  to  follow  the  example  of  Euclid,  and 
to  la\  down  first,  in  what  he  calls  regulae  philosophandi,  and 
in  his  phenomena,  the  first  principles  which  he  assumes  in 
his  reasoning.  Nothing,  therefore,  could  have  been  more 
unluckily  adduced  by  Mr.  Locke  to  support  his  aversion  to 
first  principles  than  the  example  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  who 
by  laying  down  first  principles  upon  which  he  reasons,  in 
those  parts  of  natural  philosophy  which  he  cultivated,  has 
given  a  stability  to  that  science  which  it  never  had  before,  and* 
which  it  will  retain  to  the  end  of  the  world."  We  see  in 
this  passage  a  striking  proof,  how  easy  it  is  to  animadvert 
upon  the  principles  of  an  author  without  having  taken  the 
pains  to  understand  him,  or  the  subject  of  which  he  was  treat- 
ing. We  have  before  shown,  that  Mr.  Locke  had  not,  as  here 
represented,  an  aversion  to  first  principles,  in  the  true  mean- 
ing of  the  term  first  principles,  by  which  is  implied  those 
particular  self-evident  propositions  in  which  all  good  reason- 
ing must  have  its  foundation.  Wc  have  now  barely  to  re- 
mark, that,  so  far  from  Dr.  Reid's  stricture  being  just  in 
this  respect,  Mr.  Locke  could  not  have  produced  a  case 
more  in  point  than  that  of  the  discoveries  of  Newton.  Who 
that  has  the  slightest  acquaintance  with  the  subject  could 
confound  his  regulse  philosophandi,  with  self-evident  pro- 
positions, or  suppose  that  his  reasonings  in  the  principia 
depend  upon  them?  They  are  not  even  self-evident.  No 
more  causes  of  things  are  to  be  admitted  than  are  both 
true  and  sufficient  to  explain  the  phenomena.  This  is  one  of 
his  rules  of  philosophizing,  and  a  very  just  and  profound  one 
it  is;  but  has  this  any  connection  with  the  solution  of  the 
phenomena,  except  that  it  might  facilitate  our  advance  in 
philosophy,  by  directing  us  to  proceed  in  the  best  and  most 


Axioms^  and  Maxims  of  Science.  353 

expeditious  method?  Long  enough  might  Newton  have  re- 
ceived this  rule,  which  he  drew  immediately  from  Bacon's 
precepts,  before  he  would  have  bten  led  by  it  to  broach  his 
theory  of  gravitation,  and  still  longer  before  he  would  have 
been  supplied  with  arguments  to  substantiate  it.  His  rules 
of  philosophizing,  instead  of  being  self-evident  truths  upon 
which  his  subsequent  demonstrations  are  grounded,  are 
merely  excellent  philosophical  precepts,  by  which  to  regu- 
late his  inquiries,  deduced  from  a  profound  observation  of 
nature,  and  the  clearest  views  of  her  structure  and  operations. 
They  are  no  more  the  basis  upon  which  his  philosophical 
speculations  are  built,  than  the  rules  of  architecture,  by  which 
the  artist  constructs  his  edifice,  are  the  foundation  of  the 
structure  he  has  reared.  The  same  or  similar  rt marks  would 
apply  to  the  axioms  laid  down  by  Newton,  of  which  we  have 
spoken  before.  By  this  time,  I  think,  we  must  perceive  that 
the  error  in  this  statement  does  not  lie  at  the  door  of  Mr. 
Locke,  but  upon  him  who  has  undertaken  to  cavil  at  his 
principles  without  going  through  the  trouble  of  understand- 
ing them. 

From  the  foregoing  view  of  the  subject,  it  will  be  per- 
ceived that  professor  Stewart  also,  although  he  seems  to 
think  that  his  opinions  on  this  point,  while  they  depart  from 
those  of  Dr.  Reid,  correspond  to  Mr.  Locke's,  is  entirely 
mistaken.  He  has  not  entered  into  Mr.  Locke's  views,  and 
has  adopted  and  held  doctrines  not  only  incompatible  with 
them,  but  in  a  high  degree  frivolous  and  unfounded.  His 
opinion  divides  itself  into  two  parts.  First,  although  he  says 
with  Mr.  Locke,  that  axioms  or  general  self-evident  propo- 
sitions are  not  the  foundations  of  mathematical  science,  yet 
with  strange  oscitancy  of  understanding,  he  maintains  that 
definitions  form  the  foundation  of  it. 

2dly.  He  says,  that  *'  axioms  form  the  vincula  which  give 
coherence  to  our  chains  of  reasoning.  A  process  of  logical 
reasoning  has   often  been  likeni^d  to   a   chain   supporting  a 

Y  y 


354  Of  First  Principles^ 

weight.  If  this  similitude  be  adopted,  the  axioms  or  ele- 
mental truths  now  mentioned,  may  be  compared  to  the  suc- 
cessive concatenations  which  connect  the  different  links  im- 
mediately with  each  oth.r;  the  principles  of  our  reasoning 
resemble  the  hook,  or  rather  the  beam  from  which  the  whole 
is  suspended."  This  may  be  regarded  as  very  flourishing 
rhetoric,  but  it  is  very  unsound  philosophy.  It  is  strange, 
that  Mr.  Stewart  should  have  imagined  that  in  these  opi- 
nions he  coincided,  or  very  nearly  coincided  with  Mr.  Locke. 

In  the  first  place,  as  to  definitions  being  the  foundation  of 
mathematical  science,  no  conception  could  be  more  idle  and 
frivolous.  If  Mr.  Locke  denied  that  axioms  as  they  are 
generally  understood,  are  the  basis  of  this  branch  of  science, 
what  would  he  have  thought  of  those  who  make  definitions 
such?  Definitions  are  flivided  into  two  kinds  in  the  treatises 
of  logic,  and  very  justly;  into  definitions  of  words,  and  defi- 
nitions of  things.  In  the  first  sense,  they  are  the  mere  ex- 
plications of  terms,  and  of  course  under  this  view  could  no 
more  be  considered  as  the  basis  of  our  reasoning,  than  the 
names  of  the  carpenter's  tools  form  the  foundation  of  his 
structure. 

They  are  very  proper  and  useful  to  ascertain  our  ideas  in 
the  commencement  of  any  kind  of  disquisition,  and  serve 
greatly  to  keep  up  that  clearness  of  conception  and  accuracy 
of  thinking,  which  are  so  necessary  to  the  successful  prose- 
cution of  science,  and  which  are  so  remarkably  preserved  in 
mathematics.  But  what  has  the  definition  of  a  term  to  do  with 
the  discovery  of  truth,  or  in  tracing  the  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment of  our  ideas,  except  as  a  method  of  facilitating  our  pro- 
gress in  the  acquisition  of  it?  And  in  cases  in  which  we  at- 
tempt the  definitions  of  things,  or  giving  a  description  of  the 
properties  of  things,  to  enable  us  to  discriminate  them  from 
all  others,  so  far  from  being  the  foundation  of  our  knowledge, 
or  the  propositions  upon  which  our  conclusions  are  built,  that 
it  is  a  very  just  observation  of  Mr.  Burke,  that  instead  of 


Axioms^  and  Maxims  of  Science,  355 

eommencing  our  inquiries  with  definitions,  we  should  rather 
conclude  with  them.  Thus,  Aristotle  would,  conformably 
to  the  principles  of  his  philosophy,  have  defined  the 
sun  to  be  a  luminous  body,  moving  round  the  earth,  which 
was  stationed  in  the  centre.  The  Copernican  system  has 
shown  how  false  a  description  of  the  sun  such  a  definition 
would  be,  and  would  more  accurately  define  it  to  be  that  lu- 
minous body  placed  in  the  centre,  or  nearly  in  the  centre, 
around  which  the  planets  revolve.  Here  we  must  under- 
stand the  true  system  of  philosophy,  before  we  are  able  to 
give  a  good  definition  of  the  sun,  and  of  course  our  defini- 
tion instead  of  commencing  should  terminate  our  inquiries. 
Take  any  mathematical  definition,  and  see  whether  it  can  be 
considered  as  the  ground  of  important  inferences  to  be  de- 
duced from  it.  Will  our  definition  of  a  triangle,  that  it  is 
the  space  included  between  three  straight  lines  that  cut  each, 
ever  lead  us  on  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  three  angles  of 
every  triangle,  are  equal  to  two  right  angles?  Does  it  at  all 
enter  into  the  inquiry?  Does  it  form  any  part  of  the  argu- 
ment? A  man  might  long  enough  study  all  definitions  of 
triangles,  circles  and  squares  in  mathematics,  and  ponder 
over  them  again  and  again,  before  he  would  arrive  at  the 
conclusion,  that  the  square  of  the  hypothenuse  in  a  rectangu- 
lar triangle,  is  equal  to  the  sum  of  the  squares  of  the  two 
sides. 

In  the  second  place,  when  the  professor  maintains,  that 
axioms  form  the  vincula,  or  connecting  links  between  the 
different  parts  of  a  chain  of  reasoning,  he  is  equally  mista- 
ken. He  seems  to  think  that  Mr.  Locke  is  aiming  at  a  si- 
milar doctrine,  but  from  this  circumstance  it  appears  that  he 
has  not  understood  that  writer.  According  to  Mr.  Locke, 
these  general  maxims  or  axioms,  neither  lie  at  the  foundation 
of  truth  and  knowledge,  nor  considering  a  train  of  reasoning 
as  a  chain  can  they  form  the  links  that  connect  the  parts  to- 
gether.    They  are  not  at  all  essential  to  the  structure  of  sci- 


356  Of  First  PrinctpleSy 

ence,  but  to  carry  on  the  figurative  mode  of  expression,  and 
regarding  truth  and  knowledge  as  an  edifice,  if  any  contest 
should  arise  about  the  construction  of  the  parts;  as  for  in- 
stance, whether  they  were  arranged  according  to  just  propor- 
tions, and  upon  the  true  principles  of  architecture,  these  ge- 
neral maxims  might  be  appealed  to  as  acknowledged  stand- 
ards, in  order  to  decide  the  controversy.  The  true  vincula 
of  the  chain,  would  be  those  particular  self-evident  proposi- 
tions that  must  enter  into  all  reasoning  which  is  conclusive, 
but  not  these  general  axioms  or  maxims.  To  put  the  matter 
beyond  all  dispute  by  an  illustration.  In  the  usual  mode  of 
proving  that  in  a  rectangular  triangle,  the  square  of  the  hy- 
pothenuse  is  equal  to  the  sum  of  the  squares  of  the  Other  two 
sides,  the  square  formed  upon  the  h)pothenuse  is  divided 
by  lines  into  two  parallelograms,  each  of  which  is  proved  to 
be  equal  to  corresponding  squares,  erected  upon  the  sides  in- 
cluding the  right  angle.  Now  as  the  two  parallelograms,  com- 
posing the  square,  are  proved  to  be  equal  severally  to  the 
smaller  squares  erected  upon  the  other  sides,  it  is  concluded, 
that  when  added  together  they  will  be  equal  to  the  sum  of 
these  squares,  since  the  general  axiom  is  not  to  be  denied, 
that  if  equals  be  added  to  equals  the  sum  will  be  equal. 
This  is  undoubtedly  true.  But  in  this  case  we  say,  that  there 
was  no  necessity  for  a  recurrence  to  the  general  maxim,  to 
enable  the  understanding  to  perceive  the  justness  of  the  con- 
clusion. For  after  we  have  proved  that  the  one  parallelo- 
gram, into  which  the  larger  square  is  divided,  is  equal  to 
one  of  the  smaller  squares,  and  the  other  parallelogram  is 
equal  to  the  other  square,  the  understanding,  without  any 
aid  from  a  general  principle,  goes  irresistibly  to  the  conclu- 
sion, that  if  the  parallelograms  be  added  together  they  will 
be  equal  to  the  smaller  squares  added  together,  or  in  other 
Avords,  the  square  of  the  hypothenuse,  is  equal  to  the  sum  of 
the  squares  of  the  other  sides.  It  will  here  be  distinctly  per- 
ceived, that  the  progress  of  the  understanding  is  to  arrive  at 


Axioms^  and  Maxims  of  Science.  357 

the  conclusion  by  means  of  the  particular  self-evident  truth 
or  axiom,  and  not  by  means  of  the  general;  and  the  general 
is  only  appealed  to  on  account  of  the  authority  which  it  has 
acquired  in  the  mind,  from  its  familiarity  with  it  as  one  of 
the  standards  of  truth.  We  do  not  maintain  that  all  science 
must  not  rest  upon  axiomatic  truth,  for  this  is  certain,  but 
that  no  science  rests  upon  general,  stlf  evident  truths  or 
axioms.  The  mind,  in  prosecuting  its  inquiries  in  all  the 
branches  of  science,  grounds  all  its  conclusions  upon  those 
first  principles,  or  particular  self-evident  propositions,  which 
belong  to  the  subject  it  is  investigating,  and  these  are  the 
sources  from  which  the  general  maxims  are  derived,  and  not 
the  particulars  from  the  generals. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Testimony  a  Chound  of  Human  Knowledge 


The  third  ground  of  human  knowledge  is  found  in  the 
testimony  \pf  others.  Our  philosopher  before  mentioned,  af- 
ter he  had  learnt  to  extend  his  researches  by  experience  and 
observation,  and  to  trace  the  natural  connection  of  his  ideas 
and  the  immutable  relations  of  things,  as  soon  as  he  began 
to  mingle  in  the  intercourses  of  life,  would  discover,  that  so 
short  was  his  own  life,  and  so  limited  his  own  experience, 
he  must  trust  to  the  reports  of  others  for  a  large  proportion 
of  information,  in  which  he  found  it  necessary  to  repose  con- 
fidence. Hence  a  new  source  of  knowledge  is  opened  to 
him.  Mr.  Locke,  indeed,  would  not  denominate  that  infor- 
mation which  we  obtain  in  this  way  knowledge,  but  divides 
all  our  knowledge  into  the  intuitive,  sensitive,  and  demon- 
strative, or  that  which  we  derive  from  intuition,  and  is  self 
evident;  that  which  we  derive  from  experience,  and  rests 
upon  the  evidence  of  the  senses;  and  that  which  we  derive 
from  reasoning,  and  which  is  demonstrative.  According  to 
him,  therefore,  we  cannot  be  said  in  the  highest  sense  of  the 
word,  to  know  what  is  only  conveyed  to  us  by  the  reports 
of  others;  but  can  be  only  rationally  assured  of  its  truth  from 
unimpeachable  testimony.  Perhaps,  this  representation  of 
the  matter  is  just,  and  this  the  true  signification  of  the  term 
knowledge,  according  to  its  technical  and  philosophical  im- 
port; but  there  is  a  more  enlarged  sense  of  the  word,  which 
is  the  meaning  annexed  to  it,  in  ordinary  discourse,   that 


360         Testimony  a  Ground  of  Human  Knowledge, 

seems  liable  to  no  solid  objection.  In  this  latitude  of  ex- 
pression we  are  said  to  know  that  Julius  Ceesar  was  slain  in 
the  Senate-House,  that  Regulus  advised  the  Roman  Senate 
against  concluding  a  peace  with  Carthage,  and  matters  of  a 
similar  nature.  This  is  the  prevalent  phraseology  of 
writers,  and  we  can  perceive  no  injury,  or  disadvantage 
likely  to  result  to  science  from  its  use,  when  rightly  under- 
stood. 

Under  this  view  of  the  subject,  and  indulging  this  lati- 
tude of  expression,  we  have  assigned  testimony  as  the  third 
ground  of  human  knowledge.  Our  next  step,  therefore,  in 
the  plan  we  are  pursuing,  is  to  state  the  evidence  of  testimo- 
ny, and  ascertain  when  it  is  to  be  confided  in,  and  when  re- 
jected as  a  foundation  of  assent. 

The  first  question  which  arises  in  the  science  of  the  human 
mind,  on  this  point,  is;  how  do  we  come  to  repose  confidence 
in  the  testimony  of  others?  Is  it  done  instinctively  or  acquir- 
ed by  experience?  And  as  to  this  point,  I  think  there  can 
scarcely  be  entertained  a  doubt  that,  in  the  original  conforma- 
tion of  our  nature,  we  are  so  modelled  by  the  Creator,  as  that 
we  do  instinctively  and  prior  to  reflection,  feel  an  inclination 
to  give  credit  to  the  reports  made  to  us  by  others  in  matters  of 
fact.  In  this  respect,  as  in  others,  the  great  Contriver  has 
exhibited  a  wonderful  correlation,  and  adaptation  of  one 
portion  of  the  system  to  another.  As  he  has  indubitably 
written  upon  the  hearts  of  all  mankind  a  law  of  probity, 
which  imperiously  exacts  of  them  to  prefer  truth  to  false- 
hood; so  he  has  impressed  upon  them  also  another  corres- 
ponding law,  which  leads  them  to  give  credit  to  the  testimo- 
ny of  each  other.  This  original  tendency  in  children  from 
the  earliest  period  is  strengthened  by  experience,  from  find- 
ing daily  a  correspondence  or  conformity  between  facts  and 
events  related  to  them  by  their  parents,  nurses,  and  compa- 
nions, and  the  actual  state  of  things.  The  only  ground  how- 
ever, of  a  rational  confidence  in  the  testimony  of  others,  is 


Testimony  a  Ground  of  Human  Knowledge.  361 

experience,  by  which  we  become  acquainted  with  the  princi- 
ples of  human  nature,  the  course  of  events  in  the  physical 
and  moral  world,  and  with  the  usual  conformity  of  facts, 
with  the  reports  of,  witnesses.  It  is  this  natural  propensity 
to  give  credit  to  the  reports  of  others,  added  to  their  want 
of  acquaintance  with  human  nature,  and  the  usual  course  of 
events,  which  is  the  source,  out  of  which  spring  the  extreme 
credulity  of  children  and  ignorant  persons,  and  the  readi- 
ness and  avidity  with  which  they  listen  to  marvellous  tales 
and  the  most  incredible  fictions.  Untutored  in  the  laws  of 
nature,  they  know  not  when  those  laws  are  represented  to  be 
violated.  As  subsequent  reflection  and  observation  extend 
our  acquaintance  with  the  objects  around  us,  we  soon  begin 
to  discover  that,  although  for  the  most  part,  mankind  accor- 
ding to  their  understandings  and  ability,  make  true  reports 
of  those  things  that  are  presented  to  their  inspection;  yet 
when  impelled  by  sinister  motives,  and  sometimes  from 
mere  wantonness  and  caprice  are  capable  of  deception,  dis- 
simulation, or  absolute  falsehood.  We  now  begin  to  with- 
hold our  assent  from  those  things  in  which  before  we  should 
have  implicitly  confided,  to  weigh  and  scrutinize  the  evi- 
dence in  each  case,  to  compare  the  facts  related  with  the 
course  of  our  own  experience,  and  to  yield  or  refuse  our  be- 
lief according  to  the  degree  of  probability.  We  are  now  to 
be  determined  in  our  judgment  by  the  number  and  charac- 
ter of  the  witnesses  to  facts;  by  the  circumstances  that  cor- 
roborate or  invalidate  the  force  of  their  testimony;  by  their 
conformity  or  nonconformity  to  what  we  ourselves  have  ex- 
perienced in  like  cases;  by  the  coherence,  or  incoherence  of 
the  different  parts  of  their  narrative;  by  contradictory  testi- 
mony, and  by  all  those  numberless  considerations  which 
enter  into  things  of  this  kind.  In  each  case,  however,  we 
are  assured,  that  of  all  those  events  which  are  embraced  in 
the  usual  course  of  nature,  there  may  be  ample  and  satisfac- 
tory evidence  from  testimony.     We  are  all  satisfied,  more- 

z  z 


'  « 


362         Testimony  a  Ground  of  Human  Knowledge. 

over,  that  it  is  impossible,  in  matters  depending  upon  the 
reports  of  others,  to  attain  to  the  same  kind  of  certainty,  as 
that  which  we  obtain  from  demonstration,  intuition,  or  per- 
ception; and  yet  that  these  things  may  be  no  less  convincing 
to  the  understanding,  than  if  they  were  substantiated  by 
those  kinds  of  proof.  If  we  should  wait  until  we  arrive  at 
demonstrative  or  intuitive  certainty,  before  we  give  our  as- 
sent to  the  facts,  that  there  exist  at  this  time  such  cities  as 
Rome  and  Constantinople,  and  that  there  once  lived  such 
men  as  Cicero  and  Aristotle,  we  should  forever  remain  in 
doubt  about  these  things.  And  yet  are  we  less  certain  of 
these  facts,  because  it  is  impossible  to  prove  them  by  strict 
demonstration? 

As  far  as  the  testimony  of  men  goes  in  proof  of  those 
facts  that  might  have  taken  place,  according  to  the  usual 
course  of  human  experience,  and  the  known  succession  of 
things,  almost  all  mankind  agree  as  to  its  sufficiency  td 
prove  them.  Few  persons  are  so  idly  sceptical  as  to  enter- 
tain any  doubts  of  matters  that  come  recommended  to  theni 
bj'  the  reports  of  credible  witnesses,  and  which  might  have 
taken  place  conformably  to  the  ordinary  course  of  nature. 
It  is  only  about  miracles,  or  the  violations  of  the  usual 
course  of  nature,  controversies  have  been  maintained.  Mr. 
Hume  has  undertaken  to  prove  that  no  human  testimony  is 
sufficient  to  authenticate  a  miracle  or  render  it  credible. 
As  the  subject  naturally  presents  itself  in  this  part  of  our 
speculations,  we  shall  undertake  to  state  this  celebrated  ob* 
jection  against  miracles,  and  from  the  principles  of  truth, 
and  grounds  of  human  knowledge,  which  we  have  before  ex- 
hibited, trust  we  shall  find  no  difficulty  in  refuting  it  upon 
those  maxims  of  science  and  philosophy,  upon  which  it  pro- 
fesses to  be  founded. 


CHAPTER  Vlir. 


Upon  Miracles. 


''  Experience,  it  is  said,  is  our  only  guide,  in  reasoning- 
concerning  matters  of  fact.  Experience  is  in  some  things 
variable,  and  in  some  things  uniform.  A  variable  experi- 
ence gives  rise  only  to  probability;  an  uniform  experience 
amounts  to  a  proof.  Our  belief  or  assurance  of  any  fact 
from  the  report  of  eye-witnesses,  is  derived  from  no  other 
principle  than  experience;  that  is  our  observation  of  the 
veracity  of  human  testimony,  or  of  the  usual  conformity  of 
facts  to  the  reports  of  witnesses.  But  this  experience  is 
variable,  since  mankind  sometimes  tell  us  the  truth,  and 
at  other  times,  impose  upon  us  by  falsehood.  Now,  our 
experience  of  the  established  laws  of  nature,  is  uniform 
and  invariable,  since  nature  never  deceives  us.  In  the  case, 
therefore,  of  a  miracle  reported  by  witnesses,  which  is 
acknowledged  to  be  a  violation  of  the  established  laws 
of  nature,  there  is  a  contest  between  two  opposite  expe- 
riences; our  experience  of  the  veracity  of  human  testimo- 
ny, which  is  variable,  and  our  experience  of  the  establish- 
ed laws  of  nature,  which  is  invariable.  Now,  when  our 
variable  experience  of  the  veracity  of  human  testimony, 
which  inclines  us  to  the  belief  of  a  miracle,  is  placed  in  one 
scale;  and  our  invariable  experience  of  the  established  laws 
of  nature,  which  would  lead  us  to  reject  it,  is  placed  in  the 
other,  which  scale  ought  to  preponderate?  In  other  words, 
is  it  not  always  more   probable,  that  mankind  will   impose 


364  Upon  Miracles, 

upon  us  by  false  reports,  than  that  the  established  laws  of 
nature  have  been  violated?" 

This,  I  conceive,  is  a  true  statement,  without  any  abatement 
of  its  force,  of  this  celebrated  and  much  vaunted  argument, 
which  all  the  writers  who  have  undertaken  to  answer  it,  have 
agreed  in  ascribing  to  Mr.  Hume.  Into  thi?too  ready  conces- 
sion in  favour  of  Mr.  Hume,  they  appear  to  me  to  have  been 
incautiously  betrayed,  by  the  pompous  expressions,  with  which 
that  author  ushers  in  his  claims,  assumes  to  himself  the  merit 
of  a  new  invention,  and  sets  off  the  advantages,  which  may  be 
expected  to  result  from  the  application  of  it.  We  shall  first 
state  his  pretensions,  and  then  see  if  it  be  not  in  our  power 
to  strip  him  of  his  plumes.  "  I  flatter  myself,"  says  he,  in 
the  commencement  of  his  treatise,  "  that  I  have  discovered 
an  argument,  which,  if  just,  will  with  the  wise  and  learned, 
be  an  everlasting  check  to  all  kinds  of  superstitious  delu- 
sion, and  consequendv  will  be  useful  as  long  as  the  world 
endures."  And  when  writing  to  his  friend  Dr.  Campbell, 
we  find  the  following  romantic  account  of  the  circumstances 
under  which  this  hint  was  suggested  to  him,  by  which  he 
seems  to  expect  to  perform  miracles,  while  he  refuses  that 
power  to  all  other  persons. 

"  It  may,  perhaps,  amuse  you  to  learn  the  first  hint,  which 
suggested  to  me  that  argument  which  you  have  so  strenu- 
ously attacked.  I  was  walking  in  the  cloisters  of  the  Je- 
suit's College  of  La  Fleche,  a  town  in  which  I  passed  two 
years  of  my  youth,  and  engaged  in  a  conversation  with  a 
Jesuit  of  some  parts  and  learning,  who  was  relating  to  me, 
and  urging  some  nonsensical  miracle  performed  in  their 
convent,  when  I  was  tempted  to  dispute  against  him;  and 
as  my  head  was  full  of  the  topics  of  my  Treatise  of  Human 
Nature,  which  I  was  at  this  time  composing,  this  argument 
immediately  occurred  to  me,  and  I  thought  it  very  much 
gravelled  my  companion;  but  at  last,  he  observed  to  me, 
that  it  was  impossible  for  that  argument  to  have  any  solidi- 


upon  Miracles^  365 

ty,  because  it  operated  equally  against  the  Gospel  as  the 
Catholic  miracles,  which  observation  I  thought  proper  to 
admit  as  a  sufficient  answer.  I  believe  that  you  will  allow, 
that  the  freedom  at  least  of  this  reasoning  makes  it  some- 
what extraordinary,  to  have  been  the  produce  of  a  convent 
of  Jesuits,  though  you  may  think  the  sophistry  of  it,  savours 
plainly  of  the  place  of  its  birth." 

Such  are  the  pretensions  of  Mr.  Hume.  Let  us  now  as- 
certain, whether  they  are  as  unquestionable  as  he  would 
have  us  believe.  It  is  evident  from  his  frequent  references 
to  the  works  of  Mr.  Locke,  and  more  especially,  to  those 
which  are  metaphysical,  that  he  had  read  the  Treatise  upon 
Human  Understanding,  although  it  is  equally  certain,  that,  as 
was  the  case  with  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  he  had  ne- 
ver taken  the  pains  completely  to  understand  it.  Hear,  then, 
the  language  of  Mr.  Locke  on  this  very  topic,  when  treating 
of  the  degrees  of  assent  in  the  last  part  of  his  second  vo- 
lume. "  Thus  far  the  matter  goes  easy  enough,"  says  Mr. 
Locke,  *'  and  probability  upon  such  grounds  carries  so  much 
evidence  with  it,  that  it  naturally  determines  the  judgment^ 
and  leaves  us  as  little  liberty  to  believe  or  disbelieve,  as  a 
demonstration  does,  whether  we  will  know  or  be  ignorant. 
The  difficulty  is  when  testimonies  contradict  common  expe- 
rience, and  the  reports  of  history  and  witnesses  clash  with 
the  ordinary  course  of  nature,  or  with  one  another;  there  it 
is  where  diligence,  attention,  and  exactness,  are  required  to 
form  a  right  judgment,  and  to  proportion  the  assent  to  the 
different  evidence,  and  probability  of  the  thing,  which  rises 
and  falls  according  as  the  two  foundations  of  credibility, 
viz.  common  observation  in  like  cases,  and  particular  testi- 
monies in  that  particular  instance,  favour  or  contradict  it." 
Here  we  have  both  that  mystical  balance  of  contradictory 
evidences,  with  which  Mr.  Hume  makes  such  a  display,  and 
the  substance  of  that  argument  by  which  some  are  willing 
to  believe  he  has  sapped  the  foundations  of  Christianity.  But 


366  Upon  Miracles. 

to  make  the  matter  still  more  clear,  that  this  objection  was 
felt  and  understood  by  Mr.  Locke,  hear  him  proceed  in  the 
same  chapter.  "  Though  the  common  experience,  and  the 
ordinary  course  of  things,  have  justly  a  mighty  influence 
upon  the  minds  of  men,  to  make  them  give  or  refuse  credit 
to  any  thing  proposed  to  their  belief;  yet  there  is  one  case 
wherein  the  strangeness  of  the  fact  lessens  not  the  assent  to 
a  fair  testimony  given  of  it.  For  where  such  supernatural 
events  are  suitable  to  ends  aimed  at  by  him,  who  has  the 
power  to  change  the  course  of  nature;  there,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, they  may  be  the  fitter  to  procure  belief,  by  how 
much  more  they  are  beyond,  or  contrary  to  ordinary  obser- 
vation. This  is  the  proper  case  of  miracles,  which,  well  at- 
tested, do  not  only  find  credit  themselves,  but  give  it  also  to 
other  truths  which  need  such  confirmation. 

From  these  passages  it  is  evident,  that  Mr,  Locke  per- 
ceived and  stated  Mr.  Hume's  objection  in  all  its  force,  but 
with  that  deep  insight  into  things,  which  always  distinguish- 
ed him,  discerned  at  the  same  time,  in  what  manner  the  ar- 
gument in  favour  of  miracles  might  be  relieved  from  it,  Mr. 
Hume  stopped  short  in  the  objection,  and  endeavoured  with 
all  the  subtilty  and  address,  which  he  could  summon  to  his 
aid,  to  set  it  off  to  advantage;  Mr.  Locke  with  clearer  views 
and  deeper  penetration  perceived,  that  although  the  objec- 
tion is  natural  and  not  without  its  weight,  yet  a  satisfactory 
answer  might  be  furnished  to  it;  thereby  verifying  the  excel- 
lent apothegm  of  lord  Bacon;  certissimum  est  et  experientia 
comprobatum,leves  gustus  in  philosophia  movere  fortasse  ad 
atheismum,  sed  pleniores  haustus  ad  religionem  reducere.* 

•  The  reader  will  perceive,  that  the  only  difference  between  the  arg'H- 
menthere  stated  bj' Mr.  Locke,  and  that  of  Mr.  Hume,  consists  merely 
in  the  artful  manner,  in  wliich  the  latter  has  dressed  it  off  to  advantage. 
They  are  in  substance  the  same;  but  Mr.  Hume  has  contrived  to  render  it 
more  imposing-,  by  his  mode  of  exhibiting-  it-  Mr.  Locke  allows  that,  a  great 
difficulty  which  we  find  in  receiving- the  report  of  witnesses,  lies  in  that  re- 


upon  Miracles.  367 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  answer  this  celebrated  objection, 
which  Mr.  Hume  has  thus  purloined  from  Mr.  Locke,  and 
endeavoured  to  palm  upon  the  world  as  his  own  invention; 
while  at  the  same  time  he  has  infused  into  it  all  the  venom 
of  his  own  subtilty,  and  recommended  it  by  all  the  parade  of 
language,  and  embellishments  of  fancy  and  illustration,  of 
which  he  was  capable.  From  the  account  which  we  have 
before  given  of  the  progress  of  the  human  mind,  in  its  ad- 
vancement in  knowledge,  and  the  grounds  of  our  assent  to 
truth,  we  doubt  not,  that  we  shall  render  the  solution  of  this 
difficulty,  about  the  proof  of  miracles  from  human  testimo- 
ny, extremely  easy  and  completely  satisfactory. 

In  our  entrance  upon  this  inquiry,  which  is  undoubtedly 
of  fundamental  importance  to  mankind,  we  cannot  but  re- 
mark, how  little  solicitous  a  professed  sceptic  is,  wht  ther 
dne  part  of  his  works  coheres  with  another,  and  whether 
opinions  hazarded  at  one  time,  be  in  exact  coincidence  with 
those  he  had  delivered  at  another.  In  this  treatise  upon 
miracles,  we  hear  Mr,  Hume  talking  of,  "  experience  giving 
us  assurance  of  the  uniform  course  of  nature,''  and  of  "  the 
laws  of  nature  being  established,  (or  rather  shown  to  be  es- 
tablished,) by  a  uniform  experience."  And  yet  this  is  the 
same  writer,  who,  as  wc  have  shown,  in  his  Treatise  of  Hu- 

port  clashing  with  the  ordinary  course  of  nature;  Mr.  Hume  states,  in  sub- 
stance, the  same  objection;  but  discovers  his  utmost  skill  and  adroitness, 
in  representing  the  evidence  of  testimony,  as  always  resting  upon  a  varia- 
ble experience  only,  while  the  course  of  nature  is  found  to  be  established 
by  an  invariable  experience.  Of  course,  he  concludes,  that  that  evidence 
which  we  have  of  the  established  laws  of  nature,  which  is  derived  from  an 
invariable  experience,  must,  in  all  cases,  preponderate  over  that  which  we 
derive  from  the  testimony  of  witnesses,  which,  at  best,  can  be  substantiated 
only  by  a  variable  experience.  How  far  this  view  of  the  subject  is  well- 
founded,  we  have  undertaken  to  show  in  the  text;  but  we  take  this  oppor- 
tunity of  endeavouring  to  illustrate  still  further,  the  objection  of  Air.  Hume, 
as  perhaps,  no  subject  was  ever  more  grossly  misunderstood  and  raisreprtf- 
sentsd . 


S68  Upon  Miracles. 

man  Nature,  maintains  the  atheistical  doctrine,  that  we  have 
no  reason  to  believe  that  in  any  case,  there  is  any  power  in 
causes  to  produce  their  effects,  that  there  is  no  ground  for 
that  universally  received  maxim,  that  for  every  effect  there 
must  be  a  cause,  that  all  we  can  know  from  experience  in 
reference  to  cause  and  effect,  is,  that  they  are  objects  bear- 
ing towards  each  other  the  relations  of  contiguity  and  con- 
junction; and  finally,  that  even  in  regard  to  these,  we  have 
no  reason  to  draw  any  conclusion  beyond  our  own  experi- 
ence." Now,  if  after  a  complete  course  of  observation  in  re- 
gard to  the  order  of  nature,  we  have  no  reason  to  draw  any 
inference  concerning  the  past  or  future,  what  ground  has 
Mr.  Hume  for  deducing  any  conclusion  from  his  own  expe- 
rience, in  reference  to  those  events  which  took  »place  in  the 
days  of  the  Apostles,  and  the  early  ages  of  Christianity? 
Upon  his  own  principles,  for  aught  he  can  know,  at  any  pe- 
riod before  his  time,  nature  may  have  produced  all  sorts  of 
monsters,  centaurs,  giants,  pigmies,  gorgons,  hydras,  and 
chimseras,  and  have  sported  hezself  with  the  violation  of  her 
own  laws.  If  we  have  no  right  to  reason  from  our  own  ex- 
perience, to  what  in  all  probability  has  taken  place  in  time 
past,  or  may  take  place  in  future,  then,  the  slightest  degree 
of  evidence  derived  from  the  testimony  of  others,  and  he 
allows  that  testimony  affords  us  probability  as  to  matters  of 
fact,  should  lead  us  with  the  blindest  credulity,  to  embrace 
all  the  fabulous  tales  of  heathen  mythology,  as  well  as  the 
wildest  stories  of  fiction  and  romance.  Into  such  absurdities 
and  contradictions,  are  men  driven  by  the  wanton  spirit  of 
scepticism! 

Dr.  Campbell,  in  his  answer  to  Mr.  Hume's  Essay  upon 
Miracles,  pays  him  the  very  high-wrought  and  unmerited 
compliment  of  remarking,  that,  "  he  has  not  only  been  much 
entertained  and  instructed  by  his  works,  bat  if  he  possessed 
any  talent  for  abstract  reasoning,  he  was  not  a  little  indebt- 
ed to  whrtt  he  (Mr.  Hume,)  had   written  on  human  nature, 


Upvn  Miracles.  369 

for  the  improvement  of  that  talent."  He  then  concludes,  in 
the  following  terms.  "  If,  therefore,  in  this  tract,  I  have 
refuted  Mr.  Hume's  essay,  the  greater  share  of  the  merit 
is,  perhaps,  to  be  ascribed  to  Mr.  Hume  himself.  The 
compliment  which  the  Russian  monarch,  after  the  famous 
battle  of  Pultowa,  paid  the  Swedish  generals,  when  he  gave 
them  the  honourable  appellation  of  his  masters  in  the  art  of 
war,  I  may  with  great  sincerity  pay  my  acute  and  ingenious 
adversary."  This  it  must  be  admitted  is  very  courteous 
treatment  of  the  Arch- Atheist,  and  the  inveterate  enemy  of 
all  religion  and  moials.  What  advantage  Dr.  Campbell 
could  have  derived  from  reading  Mr.  Hume's  Treatises  upon 
the  Principles  of  Human  Nature,  which,  as  far  as  we  have  be- 
come acquainted  with  them,  as  represented  by  him,  are  false, 
hollow  and  counterfeit,  w^e  cannot  imagine;  but  we  certainly 
must  be  indulged  in  thinking  that  there  would  have  been  no 
difficulty  in  recommending  him  to  much  more  able  masters 
in  abstract  reasoning,  in  whose  school  he  might  have  imbi- 
bed much  more  wholesome,  and  certainly  not  less  profound 
lessons  of  instruction,  than  the  author  of  the  Treatise  of  Hu- 
man Nature.  Must  he  pass  by  Bacon,  Locke,  Clarke,  Chil- 
lingworth,  Barrow,  Stillingfleet,  Butler,  Warburton,  and  a 
host  of  others  of  similar  pretensions,  in  whose  presence  Mr. 
Plume  twinkles  but  as  a  dim  star,  in  the  midst  of  so  many 
suns,  to  obtain  his  views  of  human  nature,  and  cultivate  his 
powers  of  abstract  reasoning  from  the  great  perverter,  and 
falsifier  of  reason?  Could  he  not  have  obtained  from  these 
champions  of  the  truth,  much  more  invincible  arms  with 
which  to  subdue  an  enemy  to  the  faith,  than  those  with  which 
he  was  furnished  by  that  enemy  himself?  To  hold  such  lan- 
guage is  certainly  one  of  the  best  expedients,  by  which  to 
give  currency,  and  authority  too,  to  the  most  pernicious  pro- 
ductions that  ever  issued  from  the  press  in  any  age  or 
country.  The  compliment  too,  as  I  have  said,  is  as  imme- 
rited  as  it  is  far-fetched  and  over-strained.     There  is  not  a 

3  A 


S70  Upon  Miracles. 

single  treatise  of  Mr.  Hume,  which  his  warmest  friends 
and  admirers,  if  they  have  just  conceptions  of  such  matters, 
could  consider  asamaster-pieceof  abstract  reasoning.  Where 
is  it?  Which  of  his  v/orks  deserves  that  praise?  His  me- 
rits as  an  historian,  although  even  in  this  respect  his  fidelity 
and  accuracy  have  been  impeached,  I  am  willing  to  admit; 
and  to  this  I  might  add,  that  he  sometimes  discovers  consi- 
derable acuteness  and  erudition  as  a  critick,  and  polite  scho- 
lar. But  his  claims  to  distinction  and  superiority,  as  a  me- 
taphysician or  profound  reasoner,  I  utterly  deny.  His  lo- 
gick  is  obscured  and  enfeebled  by  subtilty,  his  notions  of 
nmetaphysicks  are  crude  and  unconcocted,  a  vein  of  cold  and 
deadly  scepticism  pervades  all  his  writings,  together  with 
the  most  abandoned  profligacy  of  moral  principles.  Is  this 
the  author  from  whose  works  alone,  a  Christian  Theologian 
could  derive  the  weapons  with  which  to  subdue  him? 

But  to  pass  from  a  discussion  of  the  character  and  preten- 
sions of  Mr.  Hume,  let  us  proceed  to  the  consideration  of 
his  objection  to  miracles.  Never  surely  has  any  subject 
been  more  egregiously  misconceived  and  misrepresented. 
Passing  by  all  minor  considerations,  such  as  the  ambiguous 
use  of  words  with  which  this  author  is  so  frequently  charge- 
able, and  the  inconsistencies  with  himself  in  which  he  has 
been  detected  in  this  essay,  I  shall  enter  immediately  upon 
that  objection,  which  every  rational  mind  will  perceive  to  be 
by  no  means  destitute  of  force,  and  which  of  consequence,  it 
is  important  to  obviate.  The  whole  force  of  the  objection 
which  has  been  so  largely  dilated  upon  by  Mr.  Hume,  may 
be  culli'Cted  into  a  single  point,  and  consists  in  this.  Should 
we  ever  place  such  confidence  in  the  veracity  of  human  tes- 
timony, of  which  we  can  be  assured  only  by  a  variable  expe- 
rience, since  men  sometimes  tell  truth,  and  sometimes  false- 
hood, as  to  believe  in  a  miracle,  which  is  a  violation  of  the 
laws  of  nature;  when  by  an  uniform  and  invariable  expe- 
rience, we  know  that  those  laws  are  established?    In  other 


upon  Miracles.  371 

words,  will  it  not  forever  remain  more  probable  that  mea 
should  impose  upon  us  by  falsehood,  than  that  the  laws  of 
nature  should  be  violated?  This  is  the  pith  and  substance 
of  the  argument,  and  we  trust  we  shall  be  able  completely  to 
refute  it  upon  those  principles  of  science  and  philosophy  be- 
fore stated. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  that  with  the  error  contained  in  this 
argument,  there  is  also  an  admixture  of  truth,  and  that  it  is 
this  ingredient  in  the  mixture  which  renders  it  so  palatable 
to  some  men,  and  so  likely  to  impose  upon  the  understand- 
ing. Error  would  gain  no  credit  or  countenance  among  the 
virtuous  and  reflecting  part  of  mankind,  unless  she  assumed 
the  semblance,  and  wore  the  habiliments  of  truth;  and  her 
form  becomes  still  more  imposing  and  deceptive,  when  their 
resembling  features  are  so  intimately  blended  together,  that 
it  is  difficult  to  mark  the  lines  or  unfold  the  lineaments  that 
distinguish  them.  Let  us  now,  with  all  imaginable  candour, 
proceed  to  weigh  this  objection  against  miracles  in  the  scales 
of  a  just  philosophy,  ascertain  its  true  force,  how  far  the 
rule  proposed  for  testing  the  truth  of  miracles  will  properly 
extend,  when  it  ceases  to  be  a  just  criterion  of  their  authen- 
ticity; and  determine  if  possible,  that  degree  of  evidence  in 
human  testimony  upon  whicii,  in  such  instances,  a  rational 
mind  ought  to  repose  with  full  and  entire  confidence. 

As  the  contest  here  lies  between  the  evidence  of  experi- 
ence, and  that  of  testimony,  or  as  Mr.  Hume  represents  it 
of  two  kinds  of  experience,  viz;  that  which  we  have  of  the 
established  order  of  nature,  and  that  which  we  have  of  the 
veracity  of  human  testimony;  let  us  endeavour  in  the  first 
place,  accurately  to  determine  the  weight  of  these  two  kinds 
of  evidence,  so  that  we  may  be  able  lairly  to  balance  them 
against  each  other,  and  see  in  what  cases  the  one  or  the 
other  ought  to  preponderate.  First,  let  us  speak  of  the  evi- 
dence of  experience.  When  it  is  alleged  that  from  uniform 
experience  we  derive  proof  that  the  order  of  nature  is  estab- 


372  Upon  Miracles. 

lished,  we  enunciate  a  true  proposition;  but  we  must  careful- 
ly note,  in  this  case,  what  is  implied  in  the  term  proof.    We 
have  before  shown  that  all  that  portion   of  our   information 
which  we  properly  denominate  knowledge,  may  be  divided 
into  intuitive,  sensitive  and  demonstrative.     Now  it  will  not 
be  contended  that,  either   from   intuition,  or  demonstration 
we    derive  proof,  that  that   portion  of  the  past   or   future 
course  of  nature  which  falls  not  under  our  own  observation,  has 
been,  or  will  be,  the  same  as  we  have  always  found  it.  There 
are  no  lights  with  which  we   are  furnished,  either  by  nature 
or  philosophy,  which  will  enable  us  to  determine  with  any 
thing  like  demonstrative   or   undoubted   certainty,  that  any 
portion  of  the  past  course  of  nature,  of  which  we  were  not 
ourselves  witnesses,  was  like  that  which  has  fallen  under  our 
own  observation,  or  that  any  portion  of  the   future   will  be 
like  it.     The  inhabitants  of  Lisbon  and  the  Caraccas,  as  we 
before  remarked,  remained  in  as  perfect  security  that  the  or- 
der of  nature  was  established,  and  that  the  ground  would  re- 
main stable  beneath  their   feet,   but  a  moment  before   they 
were   swallowed  by  an  earthquake,  as  they  had  done  for  cen- 
turies before.     And  here  we   see  their  uniform  experience 
deceived  them.     There  are  no  principles  of  science,  at  this 
time  in   possession  of  the  philosophick  world,  by  which  we 
could  prove  that  at  any  moment  from  the  one  on  which  we 
touch,  the  whole  frame  of  the  solar  system   may  not  have  its 
springs  unloosed,  and  sink  to  ruin.     From  this  view  of  the 
subject,  which  we  venture  to  assume  as  founded  in  the  deep- 
est philosophy,  it  will  be  perceived,  that  all  the  proof,  which 
we  can  derive   from  the   most  invariable  experience  of  the 
past  course  of  nature,  can  amount  at  best  to  only  strong  and 
satisfactory  probability.     If  we  could  arrive  at  what  might 
be  called  knowledge,  or  demonstrative    proof,  that  the  past 
has  always  been  like   the   present,   the   argument  would  be 
brought  to  a   summary  conclusion,  and  Mr,  Hume's  objec- 
tion obtain  a  speedy  and  complete  triumph.     But  this  can 


upon  Miracles,  373 

never  be  done  by  the  feeble  and  limited  faculties  of  man. 
But  have  we  not  sufficient  reason  to  believe  from  our  own 
experience,  that  the  past  course  of  nature  has  been  invaria- 
bly like  the  present?  If  we  had  no  evidence  presented  to  us 
of  the  contrary,  and  supposing  ourselves  reasoning  from 
the  unaided  lights  of  our  own  minds,  we  should  certainly 
say  that  we  have.  We  entertain  no  doubt,  although  we  can- 
not prove  it,  and  know  that  it  rests  upon  probable  evidence 
only,  that  the  sun  has  risen  and  set,  from  the  beginning  of 
the  world  as  it  does  now;  that  the  Earth  has  rolled  round 
that  luminary,  and  the  tides  risen  and  fallen  in  regular  suc- 
cession. And  had  we  no  proof  to  the  contrary,  we  should 
say,  from  the  exercise  of  our  own  powers,  that  the  same  had 
taken  place  in  all  the  other  departments  and  laws  of  nature. 
While  we  are  propelled  by  a  regard  to  truth,  and  the  prin- 
ciples of  science,  to  make  this  concession  to  our  adversary, 
in  order  to  come  immediately  to  the  point  in  controversy, 
the  question  may  be  asked;  since  it  is  admitted  that  the  evi- 
dence which  we  derive  from  experience,  that  the  order  of 
nature  has  always  been  the  same,  supposing  that  no  proof 
were  alleged  to  the  contrary,  would  amount  to  strong  and 
satisfactory  probability,  is  there  any  evidence  which  can  be 
derived  from  human  testimony  which  should  overcome  this 
probability,  and  lead  us  to  conclude,  that  in  any  cases  what- 
ever the  laws  of  nature  have  been  violated?  As  the  two 
kinds  of  evidence,  that  derived  from  experience,  and  that 
from  testimony,  which  are  sui  generis,  distinct  from  each 
other,  are  here  attempted  to  be  poised  the  one  against  the 
other;  the  intelligent  reader  will  perceive,  that  the  subjects 
not  being  homogeneous,  it  will  be  extremely  difficult  to  de- 
termine by  a  test  of  this  nature,  what  degree  of  weight 
should  be  respectively  assigned  to  them,  and  how  far  the 
one  may  preponderate  over  the  other.  This  observation  has 
been  made  by  Dr.  Campbell.  Where  the  subjects  are  ho- 
mogeneous to  each  other,  it  would  be  a  fair  mode  of  reason- 


374  Upon  Miracles. 

ing,  and  consistent  with  the  true  spirit  of  the  Baconian  phi- 
losophy, to  allow  the  judgment  to  be  determined  by  the  more 
frequent  experiences  we  have  had  of  the  fact.  For  exam- 
ple, to  give  the  instance  adduced  by  Dr.  Campbell,  suppose 
a  ferry-boat  to  have  passed  a  river  in  safety,  thousands  of 
times  within  our  knowledge,  and  but  once  or  twice  had  been 
known  by  any  accident  to  be  carried  down  the  stream,  and 
the  passengers  drowned.  Here  the  very  frequent  instances 
of  the  safe  passage  of  the  boat,  and  the  very  rare  ones  in 
which  it  had  been  subject  to  any  unpleasant  accident,  would, 
when  the  first  were  weighed  against  the  last,  render  the  pro- 
bability so  strong,  that  they  would  pass  in  safety  as  to  awake 
no  apprehensions  in  the  minds  of  the  passengers.  But  sup- 
pose that,  instead  of  the  boat  being  carried  down  the  stream, 
and  all  persons  on  board  having  been  lost  twice  out  of  thou- 
sands of  times,  this  fatal  accident  should  have  taken  place 
every  fourth  or  fifth  time,  would  not  every  person  on  board 
feel  extreme  anxiety,  and  be  in  painful  doubt  of  his  fate?  In 
cases  of  this  kind,  where  the  subjects  compared  are  homo- 
geneous, or  alike  in  nature  to  each  other,  the  rule  of  Mr. 
Hume,  by  which  experience  is  weighed  against  experience, 
would  be  a  good  one,  and  the  result  would  afford  a  tolerable 
calculation  of  chances  in  favour,  or  against  us.  But  by  what 
process  shall  we  be  able  to  balance  the  evidence  of  testimo- 
ny against  that  of  experience  in  a  similar  mode?  It  is  evi- 
dent to  the  most  superficial  thinker,  that  although  the  above 
mentioned  ferry-boat  had  within  our  experience,  passed  the 
river  in  safety  thousands  of  times,  and  never  been  known  to 
be  subjected  to  any  disaster,  yet  the  testimony  of  any  one 
man  in  whose  veracity  we  confided,  would  overturn  the  evi- 
dence of  all  past  experience,  and  lead  us  to  believe  in  the  fact 
without  doubt  or  hesitation.  Of  this  statement  of  the  mat- 
ter no  rational  mind  can  doubt.  At  the  same  time,  to  pur- 
sue the  argument  with  the  same  candour,  and  impartial  re- 
gard *o  truth  with  which  we  commenced  it,  if  the  question 


upon  Miracles.  375 

were  asked,  how  we  come,  from  the  testimony  of  a  single 
witness,  to  believe  in  a  fact  that  contradicts  all  our  former 
experience  in  the  matter,  our  answer  would  undoubtedly  be 
that,  although  the  loss  of  the  boat  and  passengers,  was  con- 
trary to  all  our  former  experience  in  this  case,  yet  it  was  not 
contrary  to  our  former  experience  of  the  ordinary  course  of 
nature  in  similar  cases.  We  know  that  boats  are  liable  to 
be  borne  down  the  stream,  and  the  passengers  to  be  drowned. 
We  have,  perhaps,  been  witnesses  of  similar  casualties. 
The  agents  producing  these  results  exist  in  nature.  The 
ready  assent,  therefore,  which  we  should  give  to  a  fact  of 
this  kind,  would  not  depend  solely  upon  olir  confidence  in 
the  veracity  of  the  relator,  but  also  upon  our  previous  know- 
ledge of  the  constitution  and  laws  of  nature.  On  this  ac- 
count it  is,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  that  while  the  example 
adduced  by  Dr.  Campbell  goes  conclusively  to  show,  that 
the  two  kinds  of  evidence,  that  of  teFtimony,  and  that  of  ex- 
perience, being  heterogeneous,  cannot  be  well  balanced 
against  each  other,  until,  by  a  sort  of  metaphysical  reduction, 
we  shall  be  able  to  bring  all  kinds  of  proof  to  a  similar  de- 
nomination; yet  that  by  the  answer  he  has  given  to  Mr. 
Hume,  when  he  refers  to  the  case  of  the  ferry-boat,  he  has 
not  reached  the  very  heart  and  marrow  of  the  argument. 
The  passages  and  losses  of  the  ferry-boat  and  passengers, 
are  all  events  acknowledged  to  come  within  the  compass  of 
the  ordinary  laws  of  nature;  while  the  case  of  a  miracle  is 
admitted  to  be  a  suspension  or  violation  of  those  laws.  To  il- 
lustrate the  case  by  an  example  in  point.  Suppose,  in  pas- 
sing to  this  same  river,  we  had  met  the  same  man  whose  in- 
tegrity was  known  to  us,  and  instead  of  informing  us  that 
the  ferry-boat  had  been  carried  down  the  stream,  which  we 
should  believe  upon  his  word  without  a  moment's  hesitation, 
he  should  give  us  intelligence,  that  he  had  just  returned  from 
witnessing  a  most  extraordinary  scene,  that  of  a  Being  who 
had  raised  a  man  from  the  grave,  after  he  had  been  dead 


376  Upon  Miracles. 

four  days,  and  was  in  a  state  of  putrefaction.  Should  we 
now  yield  assent  to  the  truth  of  his  story,  however  confident 
we  might  have  felt  before  of  the  integrity  and  veracity  of  the 
narrator?  Certainly  not.  We  should  require  much  strong- 
er evidence,  than  the  testimony  of  any  man,  to  convince  us 
of  such  a  miraculous  fact.  Here,  then,  we  are  truly  brought 
to  the  p{)int  at  issue. 

Is  there  any  evidence  which  can  be  derived  from  humaa 
testimony,  the  veracity  of  which  must  always  rest  upon  a  va- 
riable experience,  that  can  so  far  vanquish  our  confidence  in 
the  established  laws  of  nature,  as  to  lead  us  to  give  credit  to 
a  miracle,  whicli  is  a  violation  of  them? 

We  have  before  remarked  with  Dr.  Campbell,  that  as  the 
evidence  of  testimony,  and  that  of  experience  are  not  homoge- 
neous to  each  other,  it  is  impossible  in  many,  or  even  most 
cases,  to  reduce  them  to  a  common  standard,  and  by  plac- 
ing them  in  the  same  scales  determine  which  will  overbal- 
ance the  other;  or  in  other  words,  decide  what  quantum  of 
testimony  will  be  able  to  outweigh  a  given  portion  of  ex- 
perience, and  vice  versa.  Notwithstanding  this  difficulty, 
however,  which  meets  us  in  coming  to  settled  and  deter- 
minate conclusions  in  these  matters,  and  which,  in  all  proba- 
bility, will  forever  preclude  the  possibility  of  our  being  able 
nicely  to  graduate  a  scale,  by  which  the  force  of  these  two 
kinds  of  evidence  shall  be  ascertained;  yet,  there  is  one  con- 
sideration which  makes  us  some  amends  for  our  deficiency 
in  this  respect,  and  that  is  this,  viz.  that  we  are  able,  I  think, 
with  tolerable  certainty  to  decifle,  what  degree  of  evidence 
ought  to  be  regarded  by  every  rational  mind,  as  inade- 
quate to  the  proof  of  a  miracle,  and  what  degree  should  be 
considered  adequate. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  to  hasten  forwards  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  our  inquiry,  we  are  willing  to  admit  that  a  miracle 
can  never  be  sufficiently  substantiated  by  the  simple  testi- 
mony of  any  man  or  any  ordinary  set  of  men.     By  simple 


upon  Miracles.  ^77 

testimony,  I  mean  testimony  which  is  uncorroborated  by  any 
other  circumstances  or  proofs,  but  the  attestation  of  the 
parties  concerned;  and  by  any  ordinary  set  of  men,  I  would 
be  understood  to  signify  a  number  of  persons  selected  from 
the  bulk  of  mankind  without  choice  or  discrimination.  I 
say,  then,  1  am  willing  to  admit,  that  a  miracle  can  never  be 
considered  as  substantiated  by  the  simple  testimony  of  any 
man,  or  any  ordinary  set  of  men.  Let  us  now  compare  this 
concession  with  the  statement  of  that  argument  usually  as- 
cribed to  Mr.  Hume,  and  it  will  be  readily  perceived  that 
we  have  allowed  its  full  force,  as  far  as  it  can  be  legitimately 
extended.  The  substance  of  that  objection  is,  that  we 
should  never  allow  our  confidence  in  human  testimony,  of 
the  veracity  of  which  we  can  be  assured  only  by  a  variable 
experience,  to  lead  us  to  believe  in  a  violation  of  the  estab- 
istied  order  of  nature,  of  v/hich  we  are  assured  by  an  in- 
variable experience.  Now  this  objection  invalidates  that 
kind  of  testimony,  of  the  veracity  of  which  we  have  had 
proof  only  from  a  variable  experience,  that  is,  simple  and 
uncorroborated  testimony.  We  have  had,  it  is  alleged,  only 
a  variable  experience  of  the  veracity  of  human  testimony, 
since  men  sometimes  tell  us  truth,  and  at  other  times  impose 
upon  us  by  falsehood.  It  is  evident,  this  could  be  justly 
asserted  only  of  the  bulk  of  mankind,  with  whom  we  casually 
meet  in  the  intercourses  of  life.  Add  to  this  general  propo- 
sition some  of  those  circumstances  of  corroboration  to  which 
I  have  alluded,  and  the  maxim  has  no  longer  its  force  or 
justness  of  application.  It  is  certain  that,  when  we  speak 
generally  of  mankind,  the  proof  which  we  have  of  the 
veracity  of  their  testimony  rests  only  on  a  variable  experi- 
ence; but  have  we  a  like  variable  experience  of  the  veiacitv 
of  good  men,  or  of  men  who  have  aflorded  us  all  the  out- 
ward and  inward  demonstrations  of  unsullied  purity,  and 
excellence  of  character?  Is  it  by  a  variable  experience 
only,  we  are  assured,  that  men  who  have  given  every  pos- 

3  B 


i78  Upon  Miracles, 

sible  proof  of  probity,  will  not  suddenly  change  their 
religion,  shake  off  all  their  early  prejudices  and  prepos- 
sessions, embrace  the  tenets,  and  enlist  as  the  champions 
of  a  new  faith,  in  order  to  become  the  propagators  of  a 
string  of  falsehoods?  Is  it  by  a  variable  experience  only, 
we  are  assured,  that  men  of  undoubted  probity  will  not, 
after  they  have  relinquished  their  own  religion  and  em- 
braced a  falsehood,  to  promulgate  that  falsehood,  relin- 
quish all  the  sweets  of  home  and  a  peaceful  life,  and  vol- 
untarily encounter  hardships,  toils,  ignominy,  perils,  perse- 
cutions, and  even  persevere  unto  death  in  attesting  it?  Is  it 
by  a  variable  experience  only,  we  are  convinced,  hat  those 
men  could  not  have  been  impostors,  and  the  propagators  of 
a  string  of  falsehoods,  who  not  only  changed  their  religion  and 
all  their  views,  and  habits  of  thinking  and  acting,  and  sub- 
jected themselves  to  all  kinds  of  sufferings  and  death,  from 
attachment  to  their  new  faith;  but  who,  by  some  wonderful 
influence,  induced  hosts  of  others  to  make  the  same  sacrifi- 
ces as  themselves;  made  converts  of  all  nations;  without 
power,  wealth  or  influence,  effected  a  complete  moral  change 
in  the  world;  planted  the  standard  of  the  cross,  upon  the 
ruins  of  paganism  and  idolatry;  and  in  spite  of  the  most  fu- 
rious opposition  of  Jews  and  Gentiles,  backed  by  the  whole 
force  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  power,  made  their  way  tri- 
umphantly through  the  earth?  In  fine,  is  it  by  a  variable 
experience  only,  we  are  assured,  that  these  men  could  not 
have  been  deceivers,  who  not  only  deserted  their  own  faith, 
and  embraced  another,  spent  their  lives  in  suffering,  and 
died  the  most  painful  deaths  in  promulging  the  tenets  of  the 
last,  made  converts  of  a  host  of  others  of  all  ranks  and  con- 
ditions; but  who  also  had  the  address  and  good  fortune,  to 
have  the  great  events  of  their  lives  annually  celebrated  by  a 
succession  of  folio vvers  from  their  times  to  the  present,  and 
monuments  erected  to  perpetuate  the  remembrance  of 
them? 


upon  Miracles.  379 

Under  such  circumstances  as  these,   can  it  be  said  with 
any  show  of  reason,  or  rather  without  an  outrage  upon  the 
principles  of  right  reason,  that  of  the  veracity  of  the  testi- 
mony furnished  By  the  first  promulgers  of  Christianity  in  fa- 
vour of  those  miracles  by  which  it  is  supported,  we  have 
only  a  variable  experience?    Would  human  testimony,  when 
thus  corroborated  by  circumstances   and   facts,   be  liable  to 
any  exception;  or  subject  even  to  the  chance  of  error  or  im- 
position?    Would  courts  of  justice    admit,   that   they  have 
only  a    variable    experience    of  the    veracity    of  testimony, 
which  is  offered  to  them  by  men  of  unblemished  reputation, 
and  acknowledged   probity   and   good  sense?     Do  they  not 
feel  themselves  perfectly  secure,  in  resting  upon  the  ground 
of  such  evidence,  those  decisions  that  effect  the  fortunes  and 
lives  of  their  fellow  creatures?     How  much  stronger,  then, 
would  be  the  case,  if  to  the  single  circumstance  of  acknow- 
ledged probity  in  the  character  of  the  witnesses,  we  add  those 
important  considerations  to  which   I   have   before   alluded, 
their  change  of  religious   habits   and   views    of  things,  the 
privations  and  difficulties  they  encountered  in   promulging 
the  doctrines    of  their  new  faith,  the   horrid  deaths   which 
they    calmly    and    triumphantly   underwent,  the   wonderful 
success  of  their  ministry,  and  to  crown  the  whole,  the  insti- 
tutions founded  upon  the  great  events  of  their  lives,  and  the 
monuments  erected  to  perpetuate  them?      Here  then,  from 
this  view  of  the  subject,  we  ha^•e  unexpectedly  arrived  at  a 
conclusion,  which  allows  us  to  admit  the  whole  force  of  Mr, 
Hume's  argument,  when  rightly  undt-rstood  and  justly  ap- 
plied, and  yet  open  no  door  by  which  any  danger  can  be  in- 
troduced to  the  christian  religion.    He  avers,  that  no  human 
testimony  can  establish  a  miracle,  because  of  the  veracity  of 
human  testimony  we  are  assured  only  by  a  variable  experi- 
ence, and  we  have  an  invariable  experience   against  a  mira- 
cle.    We  avow,  and  think  we  have  now  proved  that,  in  the 


384)  Upon  Miracles. 

case  of  Christianity,  we  have  a  testimony  in  favour  of  its 
miracles,  not  resting  upon  a  variable,  but  invariable  experi- 
ence. 

We  can  be  liable  to  no  possible  deception  in  the  case.  The 
accumulated  evidence  which  is  afforded  us  in  this  matter,  is 
stronger  and  more  conclusive,  than  any  evidence  which  we 
can  derive  from  our  own  experience,  of  what  may  have  been 
the  past  course  of  nature;  and  we  should,  upon  better  prin- 
ciples of  reason,  admit  any  the  most  stupendous  violations 
of  the  established  laws  of  the  physical  world,  than  allow  a 
testimony  so  corroborated  by  circumstances  and  facts  to  be 
false.  The  thinness  and  impalpable  nature  of  the  whole 
frame  and  constitution  of  the  moral  world,  render  it  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  determine  with  precision  and  accuracy, 
at  what  points  its  regular  and  ordinary  laws  cease  their 
operation,  and  the  violations  or  suspensions  of  them  com- 
mence. But,  on  this  subject,  we  may,  I  think,  arrive  at  tole- 
rable certainty,  that  to  suppose  all  this  compound  and  strong- 
ly corroborated  testimony,  in  favour  of  the  gospel  miracles 
to  be  false,  would  be  to  suppose  as  great  a  violation  of  the 
established  laws  of  the  moral  world,  as  to  admit  its  veracity, 
is  to  allow  the  violations  of  the  established  laws  of  the  phy- 
sical v/orld.  So  that  upon  this  view  of  the  subject,  we  know 
nor  that  any  detriment  could  result  to  Christianity,  if  the 
truth  of  Mr.  Hume's  maxim  were  admitted  in  its  utmost 
extent,  as  before  we  have  admitted  it,  as  far  as  it  is  ground- 
ed in  reason  and  philosophy,  viz.  that  we  should  never  be- 
lieve a  miracle,  unless  it  would  be  as  great  a  miracle,  that 
the  evidence  which  supports  it  should  be  false,  as  that  the 
fact  Itself  should  be  true.  It  would  be  as  great  a  departure 
from  the  ordinary  laws  of  the  moral  world,  that  such  a  stu- 
pendous imposture  as  Christianity  must  be,  if  it  be  false, 
should  have  been  embraced,  propagated,  and  palmed  upon 
the  world  as  a  system  of  divine  truth,  in  the  manner  in  which. 


upon  Miracles,  381 

it  was  done;  as  it  was  a  departure  from  the  ordinary  laws  of 
the  physical  world,  that  all  the  miraculous  works  recorded 
in  the  gospel,  should  have  been  performed.  In  this  view  of 
the  subject,  however,  it  is  proper  for  us  to  remark,  we  do 
not  acquiesce.  We  do  not  agree  that  this  is  a  proper,  and 
the  only  test  of  a  miracle. 

Let  us  now  see,  whether  the  principles   we  have   stated, 
are  conformable  to  the  views  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  as 
disclosed  to  us  in  the  sacred  scriptures.   We  have  admitted, 
in  treating  of  the  subject,  that  no  miracle  can  be  sufficiently 
authenticated,  by  the    simple   testimony  of  any   witness,  or 
any  ordinary  number  of  witnesses.     There  can  scarcely  re- 
main a  doubt,  that  there  is  a  natural  and  well  founded  pre- 
judice, existing  in  the  mind  of  every  intelligent  man  against 
marvellous  stories,  that  cannot  be  overcome,  and  should  not 
be  overcome,  when  they  become  so  serious  as  to  be  miracu- 
lous, by  such  slight  evidence,  as  the  mere  declaration  of  any 
individual,  or  a  few  individuals.     The  conduct  of  the  king 
of  Siam  was  very  natural,  who  refused  to  believe  the  report 
of  the  Dutch  ambassador,  when  he  informed   him  that  in 
Europe,  water   could  become  so   hard   by  the   influence  of 
cold,  as  to  sustain  upon   its  surface   a  loaded   wagon.     He 
followed  the  dictates  of  nature,  in  refusing  his  assent  in  this 
instance,  as  he  had  never  seen  water  in  any  other  condition 
than  a  fluid  state,  and  supposed  it  impossible,  so  to  change 
its  consistence  as  to  make  it  hard;   but   in   this  business  he 
did  not  act  the  part  of  the  philosopher.     He   ought  to  have 
known  that  experience  and  observation,  alone,  can  give  us 
information  of  the  effects,  Avhich  the  diff^erent  agents  in  na- 
ture produce  upon  each  other;    and    until   he   had   tried  the 
operation  of  the    utmost   influence  of  cold  upon  water,   he 
could  come  to  no  probable  conclusion  about  it.   That  we  do, 
however,  naturally  and  properly  make  our  own  experience, 
in  a  degree,  a  criterion  or  standard,  by  which  we  judge  of 
the  probability  or  improbability  of  the  tales  related  by  others-, 


382  Upon  Miracles. 

we  have  just  seen  acknowledged  by  Mr.  Locke,  and  ot  the 
fact  there  cannot  be  a  shadow  of  doubt.    Even  the  credulity 
of  children,  and  the  most  ignorant  persons  may  be  shocked 
by  stories  too  improbable,  or  contrary   to   experience  to   be 
credited.     Suppose,  then,  a  man   should   present  himself  to 
us,  at  this  time,  alleging  that  he  had  been  connected  with  a 
being,  who   had   performed   miracles,   who   had    raised  the 
dead,  cured  the  sick  by  his  word,  controlled  the  winds  and 
waves,  fed  thousands  of  a  hungry  multitude  with  a  few  loaves 
and  fishes,  should  we  give   credit  to  his  simple  testimony? 
Undoubtedl)  no  rational  person  would.   The  answer  to  him, 
in  such  case,  would   be   entirely  satifactory,  we   have  proof 
from  our  uniform  experience  of  the  established  order  of  na- 
ture, and  we  shall  not  believe   that   it   has   been   violated  at 
your  word,  of  whose  veracity  the  probability    can   never  be 
so  strong,  as  that  derived  from  our  own  invariable  experi- 
ence. No  apparent  sincerity  or   earnestness  of  asseveration 
on  his  part,  would  ever  persuade  us,  or  should  ever  persuade 
us,  that  he  was  not  either  deceived  himself,  or  attempting  to 
practice  an  imposition  upon  us.     Thus  far  we  readily  admit 
the  conclusive  force  of  this  argument,  and  yield  our  under- 
standings willing  captives  to  its  influence.    But,  in  reference 
to  the  miracles  ascribed  to    Christ  and  his   Apostles,   does 
this  objection  go,  in  the  smallest  degree,   to  the  falsification 
of  them?  Vv  as  there  ever  a  time,  in  which  the  truth  of  these 
miracles,  rested  solely  upon   the  simple   testimony  of  men? 
When  Numa,  following  the  example  of  other  lawgivers,  in 
order  to  give  authority   to  his   laws,  pretended  that  he  re- 
ceived them  from  the  goddess  Egeria,  and   Mahomet  de- 
clared that  the  Koran  was  communicated  to  him  by  succes- 
sive revelations   from  the  angel  Gabriel;   these    men  rested 
the  truth  of  their  pretensions  upon   their  own  declarations; 
and  upon  this  proof  alone  no  rational  mind,  not  blinded  by 
ignorance   and  superstition,  could  have   reposed   confidence. 
But  the  course  of  the  Divine  Founder  of  the  Christian  faith. 


upon  Miracles.  383 

presents  us  with  a  fine  contrast  to  such  flimsy  pretences. 
He,  indeed,  laid  claim  to  a  divine  mission,  and  had  any  ob- 
jector, such  as  those  with  whom  we  have  to  contend,  been 
present  and  put  to  him  the  interrogatory,  how  can  you  prove 
to  us,  that  you  have  been  thus  supernaturally  endowed?  To 
admit  that  God  has  thus  interposed  in  your  behalf,  would 
be  to  allow  a  miracle  or  violation  of  the  laws  of  nature. 
Now,  is  it  not  much  more  probable,  that  you  should  impose 
upon  us  by  a  false  declaration,  than  that  the  established  laws 
of  nature  should  be  violated?  We  doubt  not,  that  the  great 
author  of  our  religion,  would  have  felt  and  acknowledged 
the  force  of  the  objection.  He  has  felt  and  explicitly  ac- 
knowledged the  force  of  the  objection,  when  in  some  con- 
versations with  his  disciples  and  hearers,  he  declared,  "  if 
I  bear  witness  of  myself,  my  witness  is  not  true,"  and  again, 
'*  if  ye  believe  not  me,  (that  is  upon  my  simple  declaration^ 
believe  me  for  my  work's  sake."  Here  we  perceive  the  true 
ground,  upon  which  Christ,  during  his  own  life,  rested  his 
claims  to  a  divine  mission.  He  was  not  contented,  as  were 
the  ancient  lawgivers,  and  the  impostor  Mahomet,  with 
simply  declaring  his  heavenly  mission,  but  made  the  appeal 
to  the  evidence  of  their  senses,  those  very  senses  from  which 
they  derived  their  knowledge  of  the  uniform  laws  of  nature. 
Here  was  a  criterion  that  was  infallible,  and  could  not  mis- 
lead them. 

Thus  we  perceive,  that  our  holy  religion  in  its  outset,  did 
not  rest  its  pretensions  upon  the  simple  declarations  of  its 
author.  Nor  after  his  death,  did  his  successors  the  Apos- 
tles, who  became  the  promulgers  of  his  system  of  faith  and 
doctrine,  repose  their  claims  to  the  confidence  of  their  fel- 
low-men, upon  their  own  testimony.  As  if  anticipating  an 
objection  like  that  with  which  we  are  now  combatting,  they 
renewed  the  miracles  which  their  I^ord  had  performed,  and 
thus  by  continuing  the  appeal  to  the  senses,  silenced  all  op' 
position  from  this  quarter.     Hence  the  necessity  of  the  per- 


384  Ufwn  Miracles, 

formance  of  miracles  by  the  Apostles.  And  even  in  the 
thirfl  and  last  stage  of  evidence  in  this  matter,  in  the  days 
immediately  succeeding  the  Apostles,  we  find  Christianity, 
instead  of  grounding  its  pretensions  to  truth  and  divine  au- 
thority upon  the  simple  testimony  of  its  professors,  repos- 
ing itself  in  safety  upon  all  that  accumulated  evidence  in  its 
confirmation,  which  we  derive  from  the  character  and  con- 
duct of  its  propagators;  from  their  unblemished  purity  of 
intention,  and  uprightness  of  conduct;  from  their  relin- 
quishing all  the  comforts  and  satisfactions  of  life,  to  devote 
themselves  to  perpetual  toils,  hardships,  imprisonments,  dan- 
gers and  death;  from  the  wonderful  success  of  their  exer- 
tions, and  their  triumphant  progress  in  the  promulgation  of 
the  faith,  in  the  midst  of  difficulties,  which  appeared  insur- 
mountable. But  besides  all  these  considerations  usually  urg- 
ed in  this  case,  we  find  at  this  period  of  the  church,  a  moral 
phenomenon  presented  to  our  inspection,  for  which  no  ra- 
tional solution  can  be  furnished,  but  the  prevailing  influence 
of  miraculous  power.  A  large  proportion  of  mankind  have, 
from  some  cause  or  other,  been  induced  to  abandon  the  re- 
ligion in  which  they  had  been  educated,  and  in  opposition  to 
all  those  motives,  which  generally  operate  most  powerfully 
upon  the  minds  of  men,  to  become  christians. 

The  fact  is,  that  besides  all  this  proof  which  may  be  ex- 
hibited in  favour  of  Christianity,  and  which  every  unpreju- 
diced mind  must  deem  satisfactory,  there  is  another  of  a  pe- 
culiar nature,  and  which  of  itself,  would  frustrate  the  force 
of  Mr.  Hume's  objection.  We  are  in  the  habit  of  consider- 
ing intuition,  experience,  and  testimony,  as  the  three  distinct 
grounds  of  human  knowledge,  and  undoubtedly  they  are  so; 
intuition  being  the  ground  of  demonstrative  certainty,  expe- 
rience the  ground  of  natural  and  moral  science,  and  testi- 
mony that  of  historical  information.  Science  knows  no  other 
distinctions  but  these.  But  at  the  same  time,  is  it  not  wor- 
thy of  remark,  that  there  is  a  kind  of  knowledge  which  we 


upon  Miracles,  385 

possess,  that  is  not  derived  from  what  we  properly  call  ex- 
perience, and  yet  does  not  depend  for  its  certainty  upon  tes- 
timony alone,  but  partakes  of  the  force  of  both,  and  may  be 
regarded  as  a  compound  mixture,  composed  of  both  these 
ingredients?  Such  facts,  for  example,  as  the  following;  that 
there  were  once  such  republics  as  those  of  Athens  and  La- 
cedsemon,  such  an  empire  as  the  Roman,  and  that  such  men 
as  Aristotle,  Plato,  Cicero,  and  Cato,  once  lived  in  them, 
cannot  be  justly  considered  as  resting  solely  upon  the  testi- 
mony of  the  Greek  and  Roman  writers.  Have  we  not  the 
productions  of  their  genius,  and  their  monuments  of  art  re- 
maining?  We  can  visit  the  capitals  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
and  find  the  accounts  of  their  philosophers,  historians,  ora- 
tors, and  poets,  confirmed  by  the  venerable  ruins  still  to  be 
perceived  of  their  ancient  grandeur.  Have  we  not  here  a 
proof  of  the  former  existence  of  these  nations,  and  that  such 
illustrious  men  once  adorned  them,  as  we  have  above  enu- 
merated, much  stronger  than  that  which  can  be  derived 
from  mere  testimony,  and  which  if  it  cannot  be  regarded  as 
amounting  to  our  own  experience,  very  nearly  approximates 
to  it?  If  all  the  monuments  of  the  ancient  greatness  of  these 
nations,  could  be  supposed  so  completely  erased,  as  that  not 
a  vestige  of  them  was  to  be  seen,  the  evidence  of  these  facts 
would  be  totally  changed,  and  there  might  be  found  some 
better  excuse,  than  is  to  be  discerned  at  present,  for  the  opi- 
nion of  Father  Harduin,  that  almost  all  the  classics  are  the 
supposititious  productions  of  the  middle  ages.  To  illustrate 
our  meaning  by  reference  to  a  case  exactly  in  point.  Plato 
informs  us  in  his  Tiniieus  and  Critias,  that  when  Solon  was 
in  Egypt,  into  which  country  he  went  in  pursuit  of  know- 
ledge, as  was  the  custom  among  the  philosophers  of  Greece, 
the  Egyptian  priests  informed  him,  that  the  Cireeks  were  as 
yet  but  childreri  in  matters  of  antiquity,  for  that  at  a  period 
long  anterior  to  that  to  w  hich  their  records  extended  back 
their  history,  there  lived  a  great  and  flourishing  nation,  in- 

3  c 


386  Upon  Miracles. 

habiting  an  island  called  Atlantis,  .beyond  the  pillars  of  Her- 
cules, the  present  straits  of  Gibraltar;  that  this  island  was 
connected  with  other  islands  in  the  Atlantic  ocean,  and  these 
with  a  large  continent;  and  that  this  powerful  nation  passed 
over  into  Africa  and  Europe,  and  conquered  the  greater  part 
of  them.  Now  this  whole  account  of  the  island  Atlantis, 
and  the  powerful  nation  of  the  Atlantidse,  may  be  consider- 
ed as  described  by  Plato,  as  resting  upon  the  simple  testi- 
mony of  the  Egyptian  priests.  But  suppose  an  island  and  a 
continent,  of  the  kind  mentioned  above,  had  been  discovered 
by  modern  navigators  in  the  Atlantic  ocean,  inhabited  by  a 
people  tracing  their  origin  to  a  great  and  powerful  nation, 
from  whom  they  professed  to  derive  their  improvements, 
usages,  laws,  and  institutions;  that  the  remains  of  their  an- 
cient glory  were  still  perceptible  in  their  cities,  temples,  and 
other  specimens  of  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting; 
would  not  such  circumstances  strongly  confirm  the  truth  of 
this  Egyptian  story,  and,  in  fact,  render  credible  what  at 
present,  is  justly  regarded  only  as  a  romantic  and  fabulous 
tale?  Take  this  mode  of  reasoning,  and  apply  it  to  the  case 
of  Christianity.  Have  we  not  undoubted  proof  that  Moses 
and  Christ  once  lived,  and  performed  the  actions  which  are 
ascribed  to  them  in  the  circumstances,  that  from  the  very 
times  in  which  they  lived,  there  has  been  a  continued  suc- 
cession of  men,  who  have  submitted  to  their  laws,  and  pro- 
fessed themselves  their  followers;  that  great  and  mighty  em- 
pires have  been  erected  on  the  foundations  which  they  laid; 
that  the  monuments  of  these  empires  are  still  existing,  and 
that  institutions  arising  out  of  the  great  events  of  their  lives, 
continue  to  be  observed  in  sacred  commemoration  of  them? 
When  the  whole  of  this  species  of  evidence  is  classed  under 
the  general  appellation  historical,  it  is  certainly  throwing 
into  one  confused  heap,  things  which,  if  not  discrepant  from 
each  other  in  kind,  are  certainly  greatly  discrepant  in  their 
degree  of  force.  Science,  indeed,  furnishes  us  with  no  term 


upon  Miracles,  387 

to  designate  this  degree  of  proof,  by  which  important  facts 
and  events  may  be  authenticated,  but  its  superior  weight 
and  influence  upon  the  understanding,  are  no  less  percepti- 
ble on  that  account.  The  evidence  which  we  derive  from 
considerations  of  this  kind,  when  taken  in  connection  with 
the  other  proofs  of  Christianity  to  which  we  have  before  al- 
luded, affords  a  clear,  intense,  and  irresistible  light,  which 
cannot  fail  to  flash  conviction  upon  every  unprejudiced  mind. 
Under  this  view  of  the  subject,  and  in  the  full  possession  of 
such  satisfactory  proof,  what  shall  we  say  of  that  bold,  though 
unfounded  declaration  of  Mr.  Volney,  in  a  work  very  de- 
scriptively and  characteristically  entitled  his  Ruins,  as  it  may 
emphatically  be  styled  a  chaos  of  follies,  fantasies,  and  ab- 
surdities; "  that  there  are  absolutely  no  other  monuments  of 
th.e  existence  of  Jesus  Christ  as  a  human  being,  than  a  pas- 
sage in  Josephus,  a  single  phrase  in  Tacitus  and  the  gospels; 
and  that  the  existence  of  Jesus  is  no  better  proved,  than  that 
of  Osiris  and  Hercules,  and  that  of  Fo  or  Bedou." 

Is  there  any  extravagance  of  opinion  or  impudence  of  as- 
sertion, of  which  the  impugners  of  the  gospel  are  not  capa- 
ble, when  it  happens  to  suit  their  purpose  at  the  time,  and 
more  especially,  when  the  prospect  is  presented  to  them,  by 
the  boldness  of  their  assumptions,  to  dupe  the  ignorant  and 
ensnare  the  unsuspecting?  It  is  impossible  that  Mr-  Volney 
could  have  been  ignorant  of  the  egregious  mistatement,  and 
even  palpable  fallacy  of  a  declaration  of  this  kind.  After  the 
view  which  we  have  already  taken  of  the  subject,  it  is  cer- 
tainly unnecessary  to  enter  into  the  refutation  of  an  assump- 
tion so  glaringly  unfounded,  as  the  answer  to  it  must  by  this 
time  be  obvious  to  the  reader.  The  same  view  of  the  mat- 
ter which  we  have  exhibited  above,  serves  also,  as  we  have 
asserted,  completely  to  sap  the  force,  and  defeat  the  purpose 
of  the  much  vaunted  argument  ascribed  to  JMr.  Hume,  al- 
though, as  we  have  already  shown,  he  was  not  entitled  to  the 
merit  of  inventing  it.     Even  supposing  his  reasoning  upon 


388  Upon  Miracles* 

the  point  to  be  conclusive,  and  we  have  proved,  we  trust, by 
unanswerable  arguments  it  is  not,  it  would  not  accomplish 
the  object  he  had  in  view.  The  fact,  that  the  miracles  of 
Christ  and  his  Apostles  were  performed,  rests  not  solely 
upon  the  testimony  of  the  Apostles  and  Evangelists,  unim- 
peachable as  it  is,  and  corroborated  as  it  is  moreover,  by 
circumstances  that  render  it  satisfactory.  It  is  written  in 
deep  and  legible  characters,  if  I  may  speak  so,  upon  the 
moral  order  of  the  world.  Effects  were  produced  at  that 
time,  by  the  miracles  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  of  which 
such  extraordinary  acts  alone  could  have  been  the  adequate 
cause.  The  more  remote  results  of  them  are  discernible  at 
the  present  day. 

Thus  we  have  endeavoured  to  refute  this  celebrated  argu- 
ment against  miracles,  to  separate  what  is  true  from  what  is 
false  in  it,  and  to  show  that  when  properly  understood,  in- 
stead of  proving  of  any  detriment  to  the  interests  ot  our  ho- 
ly religion,  it  is  rather  a  confirmation  of  its  truth;  since  after 
a  scrutiny  of  this  kind,  it  is  found  impregnable  also  upon 
this  quarter,  in  which  it  at  first  appeared  to  be  most  vulner- 
able. We  shall  conclude  the  subject  by  a  few  brief  obser- 
vations, in  the  form  of  scholia,  connected  with  the  foregoing 
investigation. 

In  the  first  place,  it  will  be  an  abuse  of  the  doctrine  we 
have  held  on  this  subject,  if  it  should  be  said,  that  we  regard 
every  miracle  as  incredible,  which  has  not  been  substantia- 
ted by  such  proof  as  that  which  we  have  reqiiired  above. 
When  we  have  obtained  in  the  manner  described,  sufficient 
evidence  of  the  interference  of  God  as  the  conductor  of  any 
dispensation,  as  that  of  the  Jewish  or  Christian,  every  insu- 
lated miracle  which  may  be  exhibited,  will  not  require  the 
same  evidence  to  prove  it,  as  was  necessary  in  the  first  in- 
stance, to  establish  that  important  fact;  as  after  we  have  con- 
clusively deduced  from  an  examination  of  some  of  the  most 
important  parts  of  the  works  of  the  Creator,  the  existence  of 


upon  Miracles,  389 

a  contriver,  we  readily  refer  the  less  important  portions  of 
creation  to  the  same  original.  Under  this  description,  would 
be  included  many  of  the  insulated  miracles,  both  of  the  Old 
and  New  Testament.  When  Moses  and  Christ  had  esta- 
blished their  claims  to  a  divine  commission,  and  we  are  con- 
vinced of  the  validity  of  those  claims,  our  belief  in  such  mi- 
raculous interferences  becomes  easy. 

Secondly.  As  Mr.  Hume  promised  himself,  that  he  had 
discovered  an  argument  which  would  put  an  everlasting 
check  to  all  kinds  of  superstitious  delusion,  under  which  he 
no  doubt  included  Judaism  and  Christianity,  we  think  we 
may  avail  ourselves  of  the  principles  we  have  prescribed,  to 
put  an  end  to  superstitious  delusion,  without  having  an  ill 
aspect  upon  the  system  of  our  holy  religion.  Before  we  be- 
lieve any  miracles  in  future,  let  us  put  them  to  the  same 
test,  which  we  have  seen  the  scripture  miracles  so  well  sus- 
tain, and  if  they  can  bear  it  we  will  receive  them.  I  need 
scarcely  remark,  that  so  severe  a  test  as  this  will  at  once  ex- 
clude the  pretensions  of  all  those  impostors  who  have  at- 
tempted thus  to  trifle  with  the  interests  of  mankind,  com- 
mencing with  Simon  Magus,  and  continuing  down  through 
the  whole  line  of  his  successors  to  the  present  day.  This 
view  of  the  subject,  renders  an  object  of  ridicule  rather  than 
serious  consideration,  those  stories  of  a  blind  man  cured  by 
the  emperor  Vespasian  in  Egypt;  and  that  of  a  lame  one 
cureci  at  Saragossa,  as  related  by  the  cardinal  De  Retz,  as 
well  as  the  tales  of  the  cures,  which  were  said  to  be  per- 
formed at  the  tomb  of  the  Abbe  de  Paris.  These  accounts, 
under  this  philosophical  view  of  the  subject,  are  too  frivol- 
ous to  be  rendered  worthy  of  a  serious  discussion;  and  could 
have  been  brought  forward,  and  considered  by  Mr.  Hume 
in  connexion  with  the  scripture  miracles,  only  from  the  mere 
wantonness  of  opposition,  and  pruriency  of  debate. 

Finally:  If  the  fact  be  established,  that  miracles  were  per- 
formed by  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  the  infallibility  of  their 


390  Upon  Miracles, 

doctrines  results  by  necessary  consequence.  Knowledge  is 
power,  says  lord  Bacon.  And  with  equal  justness  and  pro- 
priety, we  may  reverse  the  maxim,  and  declare  that  the  ex- 
istence of  extraordinary  power,  indicates  the  possession  of 
extraordinary  wisdom.  It  is  not  to  be  presumed  for  a  mo- 
ment, that  any  being  will  be  allowed  to  exercise  the  prero- 
gatives of  deity,  or  be  invested  with  his  awful  authority,  who 
is  not  delegated  by  God  himself.  To  suppose  that  God 
would  enable  one  commissioned  by  himself,  to  perform  mi- 
racles in  the  confirmation  of  error,  is  to  suppose  him  to  give 
his  awful  sanction  to  deceive  mankind. 


END  OF  BOOK  HI. 


BOOK  IV. -CHAPTER  I. 


Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions,  and  the  Metaphysics  of 

Vision. 


Let  us  return  back,  for  a  few  moments,  upon  our  foot- 
steps, and  retrace  the  progress  of  our  primitive  man  or  phi- 
losopher, in  attaining  the  first  elements  of  human  knowledge. 
We  have  seen  that  the  number  of  his  original  perceptions 
wpuld  be  extremely  limited,  and  that  he  would  be  utterly- 
unable  to  determine  from  what  kinds  of  objects  they  were 
derived.  By  sight  he  would  perceive,  at  first,  only  a  vari- 
ously coloured  superficies,  but  of  figures,  distances  and  mag- 
nitudes would  know  nothing.  By  the  ear  he  would  distin- 
guish sounds  with  their  several  tones  and  degrees  of  inten- 
sity, while  he  was  ignorant  of  the  causes  from  which  they 
proceed;  and  by  smell  the  variety  of  odours  which  were  waft- 
ed to  that  sense.*  All  this  time,  however,  he  would  be  ac- 
quainted only  with  himself  and  his  own  sensations?  His  ac- 

*  Dr.  Reid  in  chap.  6,  sect.  8,  of  his  Treatise  on  the  Human  Mind; 
sa3's,  "if  we  should  suppose  that  smell  and  sound  were  conveyed  in  right 
lines  from  the  objects,  and  that  every  sensation  of  hearing  and  smell  sug- 
gested the  precise  direction  or  position  of  its  object;  in  this  case,  the  ope- 
rations of  hearing  and  smelling  would  be  similar  to  those  of  seeing;  we 
should  smell  and  hear  the  figure  of  objects  in  the  same  sense  as  now  we  see 
it;  and  every  smell  and  sound  would  be  associated  with  some  figure  in  the 
imagination,  as  colour  is  in  our  present  state."  We  should  smell  and  hear 
the  figure  of  objects!!  Would  not  this  be  to  outstrip  Don  Quixotte  him- 
self, renowned  as  he  was  for  his  exploits,  who  never  pretended  to  any  thing 
more  than  having  seen  his  Dulcinea  by  hearsay? 


392  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions^ 

quaintance  with  the  objects  around  him  would  soon  com- 
mence, and  curiosity,  as  well  as  enjoyment,  would  prompt 
him  to  extend  it.  Subjecting  the  things  which  presented 
themselves  to  his  sight  to  the  examination  of  his  touch,  he 
would  discover  that,  instead  of  exhibiting  to  him  any  longer 
only  a  plain  surface  variously  coloured,  they  were  formed  in 
different  figures,  and  situated  at  different  distances.  Mark- 
ing the  appearances  which  objects  displayed  to  the  sight, 
when  thus  examined  by  the  sense  of  touch,  and  taking  these 
appearances  as  the  signs  by  which  to  designate  and  distin- 
guish them  in  future,  after  repeated  attempts,  he  would  be 
able  to  perceive  their  figures  and  magnitudes  by  sight  alone. 
This  process  by  which  the  mind  arrives  at  a  perception  of 
figures,  magnitudes  and  distances,  is  what  the  young  man 
couched  by  Cheselden,  very  significantly  denominated  learn- 
ing to  see.  Suppose,  for  instance,  the  case  proposed  by  Mo- 
lineux  to  Mr.  Locke,  of  a  globe  and  a  cube  being  placed  be- 
fore the  young  man  just  mentioned,  immediately  upon  his 
receiving  sight,  and  it  is  evident,  as  determined  by  Mr. 
Locke,  that  he  would  not,  at  first,  distinguish  the  one  from 
the  other.  But  after  examining  them  both  by  the  help  of 
touch,  and  discovering  their  real  figures,  and  marking  at  the 
same  time  with  attention  the  peculiar  appearance  which  each 
presented  to  the  eye;  that  appearance,  whenever  it  was  again 
presented,  would  become  the  sign  by  which  the  thing  signi- 
fied, whether  the  globe  or  cube,  would  be  known.  This  me- 
thod of  procedure  of  the  understanding  in  obtaining  its  ac- 
quired perceptions,  may,  without  a  figure  of  speech,  be  st\  led 
the  interpretation  of  signs.  The  same  thing  happens  in  the 
case  of  hearing,  smelling,  taste,  and  all  the  senses.  They 
have  their  lessons  to  acquire  by  experience  and  observation, 
as  well  as  the  sight.  At  first  we  are  sensible  only  of  the 
sensations,  which  sounding  bodies  occasion  in  us,  according 
to  their  different  modifications  and  various  degrees  of  inten- 
sity; afterwards  by  habit  and  attention  we  learn  to   distin- 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision^  395 

guish  the  objects  from  which  they  proceed,  as  well  as  to  te. 
lish  the  higher  pleasures  of  concord  and  harmony.  Thus 
the  variety  of  sounds  also  become  so  many  signs,  by  which 
their  several  noticed  are  conveyed  into  the  understanding,  atid 
objects  discriminated  from  each  other.  We  distinguish  every 
day  instantaneously,  and  without  any  effort  of  mind,  the  voices 
of  the  different  persons  with  whom  we  are  in  habits  of  inti- 
macy, the  noises  which  are  occasioned  by  thunder,  cannon  of 
fire-arms,  that  of  the  various  vehicles  of  conveyance  which 
pass  by  our  doors,  and  numberless  others  of  a  similar  nature. 
These  are  none  of  them  origind,  but  acquired  perceptions. 
Hence  it  is  both  with  sight  and  hearing,  that  they  become 
liable  to  such  an  indefinite  number  of  mistakes  and  delu- 
sions. For,  whenever,  either  by  art  and  contrivance,  or  from 
mere  contingency,  the  sign  by  which  certain  objects  are  ex- 
hibited to  the  mind,  can  be  presented,  the  objects  themselves 
will  appear  to  be  present.  Thus,  for  example,  after  our  pri- 
mitive man  had  learned  to  distinguish  a  globe  by  his  sight 
from  its  peculiar  appearance,  if  the  painter  had  placed  in  his 
view  a  globe  drawn  in  a  picture,  he  would  have  imagined  it 
to  be  a  real  globe,  and  expected  that  it  would  seem  such  to 
his  sense  of  touch.  We  find  that  the  young  man  couched  by 
Cheselden,  discovered  his  surprise  that  those  things  in  a  pic- 
ture which  seemed  to  have  bulk  to  his  sight,  were  not  found 
to  have  it  when  touched;  and  showed  his  astonishment  by 
asking  which  of  his  senses  it  was  that  deceived  him.  In  this 
power  of  deceiving  the  sense  of  sight,  meaning  by  the  term 
deception  the  presentation  of  the  mere  signs  of  things,  and 
not  the  very  things  themselves,  consists  the  painter's  art;  as 
in  deceptions  of  the  ear  by  the  various  modulations  of  sound, 
consists  the  whole  power  of  the  ventriloquist.  This  view  of 
the  subject,  will  serve  also  to  explain  what  appears  to  most 
persons  to  be  an  unaccountable  phenomenon  of  the  human 
mind;  viz.  that  when  we  are  deprived  of  one  of  our  senses, 
the  others,  it  is  said,  become  more  acute,  and  convey  to  uft 

3    D 


394  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions^ 

a  greater  number  of  perceptions,  or  more  extensive  infor- 
mation; insomuch  that  some  persons  who  are  blind,  are 
known  to  be  able  to  distinguish  colours  by  the  touch,  and 
to  become  much  more  acute  and  nice  than  other  men  in  their 
discrimination  of  sounds.  There  is  no  necessity,  however, 
in  order  to  explain  this  fact,  to  have  recourse  to  the  vulgar 
solution,  which  supposes,  that  when  we  are  deprived  of  one 
of  our  senses,  greater  vigour  is  communicated  to  the  rest,  since 
this  is  a  mere  gratuitous  assumption,  unsupported  by  proof 
or  probability.  The  phenomenon  is  readily  accounted  for  by 
adverting  to  the  circumstance,  that  when  we  are  divested  of 
one  of  the  senses,  it  becomes  indispensably  necessary,  in  or- 
der to  attain  that  information  in  regard  to  the  objects  around 
us  which  men  so  eagerly  pursue,  to  attend  to  all  the  nicest 
and  most  delicate  perceptions  of  the  others.  A  man,  for  in- 
stance, who  is  deprived  of  sight,  being  cut  off  from  all  those 
interesting  notices  conveyed  into  the  mind  by  that  organ,  and 
anxiously  desirous  of  obtaining  those  ideas  which  he  found 
prevalent  among  others,  would  exert  himself  to  the  utmost  to 
supply  the  deficiency;  and  in  order  to  this  end,  would  close- 
ly and  minutely  attend  to  all  those  delicate  perceptions  of 
touch,  which  would  pass  unnoticed  by  him  were  he  able  to 
arrive  at  this  intelligence  from  any  other  quarter.  Hence, 
although  he  can  have  no  idea  of  colours,  by  the  nicety  of  his 
observations,  he  will  learn  to  distinguish  cloths  of  the  differ- 
ent colours  by  his  touch  alone,  as  well  as  to  conduct  himself 
by  this  sense  from  place  to  place,  with  considerable  ease  and 
safety.  The  young  man  couched  by  Cheselden,  complained, 
aftt  r  he  had  gained  his  sight,  that  he  was  losing  the  faculty 
of  walking  in  the  dark.  This  was  the  natural  result  of  the 
change  in  his  condition;  for  having  now  obtained  possession 
of  the  higher  power  of  sight,  he  found  it  no  longer  necessa- 
ry to  pay  attention  to  those  perceptions  of  touch  by  which  he 
had  been  formerly  directed,  and  they  passed  entirely  unno- 
ticed.    Thus  we  perceive,  that  from  the  very  first  moments 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision,  395 

of  infancy,  when  we  open  our  eyes  to  admit  the  light,  we  are 
phiced  in  a  state  of  pupilage  to  nature;  and  from  her  as  our 
instructress,  while  as  children  we  are  pursuing  our  innocent 
sports  and  gambols,  are  deriving  insensibly  to  ourselves,  the 
most  sublime  and  important  lessons-  It  is  a  very  common 
observation,  that  children  learn  more  during  the  first  two 
years  of  their  lives,  than  in  any  equal  portion  of  time  after- 
wards, and  we  can  now  enter  fully  into  that  view  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  feel  hov(^  philosophically  just  and  true  the  opinion  is. 
Every  time  the  child,  the  little  pupil  of  nature,  opens  its 
eyes,  listens  to  a  sound,  pursues  an  object  of  desire,  moves 
its  limbs,  or  lisps  an  articulate  sound,  it  is  imbibing  the  most 
important  and  useful  instruction.  Let  us  leave  our  children, 
then,  to  the  enjoyment  of  that  license  and  freedom  from  re- 
straint in  this  first  stage  of  life,  which  their  Creator  evident- 
ly intended,  to  follow  their  native  impulses,  and  seek  the  gra- 
tification of  all  their  innocent  desires.  Those  indolent  mo- 
thers who,  in  order  to  save  themselves  the  trouble  of  paying 
attention  to  them,  put  them  under  the  care  of  mistresses, 
where,  even  before  their  infant  faculties  begin  to  unfold 
themselves,  they  are  constrained  to  pore  over  lessons  which 
are  rendered  irksome  and  disgusting,  only  because  prema- 
turely urged  upon  them,  their  little  limbs  constrained  and 
their  growth  impeded,  their  minds  tortured  with  the  fear  of 
punishment,  and  their  health  impaired  by  unnatural  con- 
straint, are  as  violently  thwarting  the  benevolent  purposes  of 
nature,  as  outraging  the  feelings  and  wishes  of  their  off- 
spring. Such  forced  and  premature  instruction  may  become 
the  cause  of  very  serious  evils  and  inconveniences  to  the 
rising  generation,  but  can  never  be  productive  of  any  useful 
consequences.  As  those  parents,  who  have  the  justest  views 
of  human  nature,  will  never  suffer  themselves  to  be  too  much 
elated  with  discovering  in  their  children  a  remarkable  pre- 
cocity of  genius,  since  such  precocity  scarcely  ever  realizes 
the  expectations  it  excites;  so  those  who  have  the  most  ';orr 


396  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions y 

rect  views  of  the  matter  of  education,  will  never  regard  it 
as  a  subject  of  boasting,  or  a  ground  of  future  expectation, 
that  by  this  hotbed  kind  of  process,  their  offspring  have 
been  able  to  attain  to  a  proficiency  in  learning,  which  awakes 
the  surprise  aad  astonishment  of  the  vulgar.  ^Those  lessons, 
which  are  at  this  very  early  period  attained  with  infinite  toil 
and  difficulty,  and  perhaps  with  the  loss  of  health  and  com- 
fort, at  a  more  mature  age  would  come  to  them  almost  un- 
sought. Let  nature,  therefore,  the  kindest  and  most  indul- 
gent of  all  mistresses,  be  their  instructress,  who  so  gently 
mixes  the  agreeable  with  the  useful,  and  let  the  only  lessons 
which  are  imbibed  at  this  early  period,  be  derived  from  her 
universal  school. 

But  to  return  from  this  short  digression  to  the  subject  of 
our  acquired  perceptions.     On  the   subject   of  the  acquired 
perceptions  of  sight,  several  questions  have  been  raised.     In 
the  first  place,  it  is  asked,  whether  we  do  not  originally  per- 
ceive objects  in  an  inverted  position,  as  the  image  upon  the 
tunica  retina  is  known  to  be  inverted?     And  whether,  of  con- 
sequence, our  seeing  them  erect  is  not  an  acquired  perception? 
As  soon  as  it  was  discovered  by  Kepler  that  in  our  per- 
ception of  the  objects  of  sight,  the  image  upon  the  retina  is 
inverted  instead  of  being  erect,  this  was  a  natural  inquiry  in 
philosophy.     In  order  to  render  the  subject  as  clear  as  pos- 
sible to  the  reader,  we  will  suppose  a  small  table  A  with  a 
globe  B  resting  upon  it,  placed  in  view  of  a  man  who  has 
never  before  seen,  but  has  just  been   couched   by   the  sur- 
geon. Now,  the  question  is,  since  the  globe  B  will  be  below 
the  table  A  in  the  image  upon   the  retina,  whether  it  would 
appear,  at  first,  to  be  really  below  it  in  external  nature?  We 
have  before  stated  the  appearance  which  an  object  of  this 
nature  would  present  to  a  man  under  these   circumstances; 
viz,    that   of  a  plain  superficies   variously    coloured,    as    he 
would  have  no  idea  of  distances,   figures,   or  magnitudes. 
Supposing,  then,  the  globe  B,  and  the  table  A  to  be  blac^. 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision.  397 

and  before  a  white  wall,  all  that  the  newly  couched  observer 
would  be  able  to  distinguish,  would  be  such  a  form  as  would 
be  made  by  the  globe  and  table,  if  painted  in  black  upon 
white  canvass.  To  simplify  the  query,  then:  On  this  white 
canvass  would  our  observer  seem  to  see  the  globe  resting 
below  the  table,  according  to  the  position  of  the  image  upon 
the  retina,  or  above  it  as  it  exists  in  nature?  Bishop  Berke- 
ley, with  his  usual  refinement  and  subtilty,  would  say,  that 
our  ideas  of  upper  and  under  are  merely  relative;  and  we 
call  that  upper  which,  when  examined  by  the  touch,  is  above 
the  earth,  and  that  under,  which  when  examined  by  the  same 
sense,  is  nearest  to  the  earth.  Now  as  the  perceptions  of 
sight  have  no  resemblance  to  those  of  touch,  we  could  form 
no  idea  originally,  when  we  perceived  any  thing  by  the  eyes, 
whether  one  part  was  under,  and  the  other  above,  according 
to  the  previous  decisions  of  the  sense  of  touch.  The  only 
way,  therefore,  that  we  could  obtain,  by  sight,  ideas  of  what 
our  sense  of  touch  had  taught  us  as  above  and  below,  would 
be,  by  marking  the  appearances  which  the  higher  and  lower 
parts  of  objects  display,  and  then,  when  those  appearances 
are  again  exhibited,  we  shall  be  able  to  recognize  them. 
Thus,  for  instance,  noticing  the  peculiar  appearances  ex- 
hibited to  us  by  the  globe  and  the  table,  and  observing  by 
the  touch  at  the  same  time,  that  the  one  is  placed  above  the 
other,  whenever  the  same  appearance  is  presented  to  the 
eye,  we  at  once  know  that  the  one  is  above,  and  the  other 
below,  or  the  one  the  farthest  from  the  earth,  and  the  other 
the  nearest  to  it. 

This  solution  is  of  a  piece  with  Bishop  Berkeley's  system 
and  views  of  things,  and  may  be  jiistly  applied  in  explaining 
the  phenomena  of  all  our  acquired  perceptions  of  si^ht,  But 
it  seems  to  leave  entirely  out  of  the  account,  that  we  must 
have  some  original  perceptions  of  sight  as  well  as  touch, 
and  of  course  does  not  solve  the  phenomenon  in  question. 
Nothing  can  be  more  certain,  according  to  the  principles  we 


398  OJ  our  Acquired  Perceptions^ 

have  before  stated,  and  proved  from  experiment  and  obser- 
vation, than  that  by  our  sight  we  should  at  first  be  unable 
to  decide  which  was  the  globe,  and  which  the  table,  as  be- 
fore ascertained  by  our  touch,  the  case  being  the  same  stated 
by  Molineaux  to  Mr.  Locke,  since  there  can  be  no  kind  of 
resemblance  between  the  perceptions  of  touch  and  those  of 
sight;  but,  at  the  same  time,  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  we 
should  have  original  perceptions  by  sight  of  the  globe  and 
table,  as  distinct  from  each  other,  as  those  which  we  had  of 
them  by  the  touch.*     In  other  words,  the  appearance  which 

*  Mr.  JuriD,iD  his  remarks  upon  Article  132,  of  Dr.  Smith's  opticks, 
speaking  of  the  problem  proposed  by  Molineaux  to  Mr.  Locke,  maintains, 
that  Mr.  Locke  was  right  in  deciding  that  a  blind  man  who  had  known  a 
globe  and  a  cube  only  by  his  touch,  if  suddenly  restored  to  sight,  would 
not  be  able  at  once,  to  determine  which  was  the  globe  and  which  the  cube; 
but  thinks,  that  without  touching  them,  if  they  were  presented  to  his  view, 
and  he  was  told  that  they  were  a  globe  aud  cube,  he  would  be  able  to 
distinguish  the  one  from  the  other.  The  process  of  reasoning  by  which 
Mr.  Jurin  thinks  the  blind  man  would  be  able  by  sight  alone  to  determine 
which  was  the  globe,  and  which  the  cube,  is  in  substance  this:  that  the 
blind  man  when  he  went  around  the  globe,  and  viewed  it  on  all  sides 
would  find  that  it  affected  his  sense  in  the  same  way,  while  the  cube  would 
differently  affect  Jus  sense  according  to  the  position  from  which  he  viewed 
it.  Now,  upon  reflection,  he  would  recollect  that  the  same  effect  had  been 
produced  upon  his  sense  of  touch,  the  globe  producing  always  the  same 
sensation,  while  the  cube  differently  affected  him.  Hence  he  would  con- 
clude, that  the  one  which  produced  one  invariable  sensation  by  means  of 
the  eye,  must  be  the  same  as  that  which  produced  an  invariable  sensation 
by  means  of  touch."  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  this  view  of  the  subject  is 
mistaken.  It  is  true,  as  we  have  asserted  in  the  text,  that  the  sensation 
produced  by  the  globe,  and  that  produced  by  the  cube  through  the  organs 
of  vision,  would  be  different;  and  if  any  other  person  should  inform  the  man, 
thus  restored  to  sight,  that  the  figure  which  presented  a  regular  curvature 
was  the  globe,  and  that  which  varied  in  appearance  was  the  cube,  he 
would  ever  after  be  able  to  distinguish  them  from  each  other  by  sight 
alone.  But  unless  he  received  the  information  from  some  other  person,  or 
actually  touched  the  objects,  and  compared  his  sensations  of  sight  and 
touch  together,  and  discovered  by  examination,  that  tlie  object  which  to 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision.  399 

the  globe  presented  to  the  eye  would  be  as  diverse  and  dis- 
tinct from  that  presented  by  the  table,  as  the  figure  of  the 
one,  when  handled  and  examined  by  the  sense  of  feeling, 
would  be  from  that  of  the  other.  Besides,  although  it  be 
strictly  just  and  philosophical  to  assert,  that  there  is  really 
no  resemblance  between  the  perceptions  of  sight,  and  those 
of  touch;  yet  there  would  be  so  far  a  congruity  or  corres- 
pondence between  them,  that  it  would  be  utterly  impossible, 
that  the  same  object  which  presented  to  the  feeling  the 
sharp  angles  and  projecting  points  of  the  table,  should  ex- 
hibit to  the  eye  the  regular  curvature,  and  smooth  surface  of 
the  globe.  From  these  observations,  I  think,  it  must  ap- 
pear evident  that,  if  in  our  first  impressions,  we  perceived 
by  our  sight  the  globe  below  the  table  instead  of  being  above 
it,  as  it  is  found  in  nature,  when  we  came  to  compare  toge- 
ther our  perceptions  of  sight  with  those  of  touch,  we  should 
be  able  to  determine  that  it  was  so.  Now,  from  the  expe- 
rience of  those  who  have  been  couched,  it  has  been  ascer- 
tained, that  although  the  image  painted  upon  the  retina  is 
inverted,  yet  the  object  is  invariably  perceived  from  the 
first  in  an  erect  position.  Not  one  of  them  could  ever  dis- 
cover that  the  object  appeared  inverted.  The  original  ques- 
tion, therefore,  again  recurs  to  be  solved,  if  soluble,  by  phi- 
losophy.    How  it  happens  that  we  perceive  objects   erect 

his  touch  appeared  to  be  a  globe  exhibited  such  a  peculiar  appearance  to 
the  eye,  and  so  of  the  cube,  he  never  would  be  able  to  discriminate  them. 
How  could  he  know,  according'  to  Mr.  Jurin's  opinion,  that  the  same  thing 
which  occasioned  one  uniform  sensation  to  the  sight,  would  occasion  a  uni- 
form and  invariable  sensation  to  the  touch?  For  ought  he  could  know,  that 
object  which  occasioned  the  same  sensation  always  to  the  eye,  might  have 
been  the  one  which  occasioned  such  a  variety  of  sensations  to  the  touch. 
He  might,  indeed,  if  we  suppose  him  coolly  to  reason  and  pliilosophise  on 
the  subject,  make  the  similarity  of  perception  in  both  cases  a  ground  of 
conjecture  that  they  were  occasioned  by  the  .same  object,  but  never  a 
ground  of  demonstration  or  entire  certainty. 


400  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions^ 

when  the  images  of  them  painted  upon  the  retina  is  evident- 
ly inverted? 

In  order  that  w^e  may  have  clear  and  distinct  ideas  on  this 
point,  I  would  remark,  that  we  should  keep  constantly  in 
view  the  natare  of  perception,  that  it  is  an  act  of  the  mind 
and  not  of  the  body,  although  it  is  undoubtedly  produced  by 
the  instrumentality,  and  through  the  intermediation  of  the 
external  organs  of  sense.  By  the  very  terms  in  which  the 
proposition  is  enunciated,  it  would  appear  as  if  the  difficulty 
is  occasioned  by  our  imagining  the  mind  to  perceive  the 
image  upon  the  retina,  and  not  the  outward  object  itself. 
Otherwise  in  what  consists  the  difficulty?  We  havo  before 
seen  that  the  doctrine  held  on  this  subject,  is,  that  rays  of 
light  pass  from  the  object  to  the  eye,  and  being  refracted  by 
its  humours  and  the  christaline  lens,  form  an  image  upon 
the  retina,  and  by  means  of  some  motions,  or  some  action 
communicated  to  the  nervous  coat  and  the  brain,  enable  us 
to  perceive  it.  The  formation  of  an  inverted  image  at  the 
bottom  of  the  eye,  is,  therefore,  nothing  more  than  a  part  of 
that  train  of  action  in  the  system  to  which,  by  the  wisdom 
of  the  Creator  is  annexed  a  perception  of  the  mind.  Now 
we  know  that  it  is  a  mystery,  unsearchable  to  the  human  un- 
derstanding, how  any  action  upon  a  system  of  bodily  organs 
could  occasion  a  perception  in  the  mind;  but  what  has  the 
mind  to  do  with  an  erect  or  inverted  image?  Is  not  the  ef- 
fect the  same  upon  the  mind,  whether  the  action  be  produ- 
ced upon  the  lower  part  of  the  eye  or  the  upper?  Has  the 
mind  an  upper  and  lower  part?  But  the  mind  while  con- 
nected with  the  body,  is  dependent  upon  it  for  its  informa- 
tions of  this  nature,  and  must  be  governed  by  those  laws 
that  influence  the  operations  of  body.  True.  And  we  have 
only  to  determine,  according  to  what  law  we  see  objects 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  organ  of  the  eye,  to  ren- 
der this  whole  matter  extremely  clear.  Now  we  know  that, 
except  in  cases  c^f  optical  delusions,  we  always  gee  objects  by 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision.  401 

means  of  those  rays  of  light,  that  pass  in  straight  lines  from 
those  different  parts  to  the  eye.  By  the  straight  lines  that 
pass  from  the  upper  part  of  any  thing  to  the  eye,  we  perceive 
the  upper  part  ofdt,  and  so  of  the  lower.  Of  consequence, 
in  vision,  whatever  may  be  the  position  of  the  image  upon 
the  retina,  whether  it  be  inverted  or  erect,  we  must  perceive 
it  as  it  exists,  or  nearly  as  it  exists  in  nature,  unless  the 
sight  be  deceived,  as  we  know  frequently  happens.  This, 
perhaps,  is  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  penetrate  into  the  mys- 
teries of  nature.  Des  Cartes,  however,  has  undertaken,  to 
proceed  a  step  farther  in  this  matter,  and  explain  in  what 
manner,  by  means  of  an  inverted  image  at  the  bottom  of  the 
eye,  we  may  perceive  an  erect  object.  His  account  of  the 
phenomenon  is  the  following.  He  asserts,  that  every  part 
of  the  retina  is  connected  by  the  fine  capillaments  of  the  op- 
tick  nerves  to  corresponding  parts  of  the  brain;  and  that 
when  the  rays  of  light  from  any  part  of  an  object  fall  on  the 
retina,  by  means  of  these  fine  capillaments  of  the  optick  nerves, 
an  effect  is  produced  upon  the  corresponding  parts  of  the 
brain,  by  which  means  the  mind  perceives  every  thing  in 
the  direction  of  those  rays  of  light.  Hence  it  is,  that  al- 
though the  rays  of  light  that  pass  from  the  upper  part  of  an 
object,  and  those  from  the  lower  part  cross  each  other  as 
they  make  their  way  through  the  humours  and  lenses  of  the 
eye,  and  fall  upon  opposite  parts  of  the  retina,  those  that 
are  emitted  or  rather  reflected  from  the  upper  part  of  the 
object  going  to  the  lowest  on  the  retina,  and  the  contrary; 
yet,  in  as  much  as  the  effect  is  produced  upon  the  corres- 
ponding parts  of  the  brain,  we  perceive  the  upper  part  of  the 
object  by  means  of  the  rays  that  fall  upon  the  lower  part  of 
the  retina,  and  the  lower  part  of  the  object  by  means  of  rays 
that  fall  upon  the  upper  part  of  the  retina,  as  we  feel  the  up- 
per and  lower  part  of  any  thing  by  means  of  two  eticks  that 
cross  each  other,  and  are  held  in  both  hands  at  the  same 
time;   the   hand  that  is    below  enabling  us  to  perceive  by 

3   E 


40:i  Of  oxir  Acquired  Perceptions^ 

means  of  it  the  higher  part  of  the  object,  and  that  which  is 
above  enabling  us  to  perceive  by  means  of  another  stick 
crossing  the  first,  the  lower  part.  This  account  may  serve 
well  enough  as  an  illustration  of  the  operations  of  one  sense, 
by  tracing  an  analogy  between  them  and  the  operations  of 
another,  but  furnishes  no  solution  of  the  phenomenon  of  our 
seeing  erect  objects  by  inverted  images.  We  should  think 
it  no  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  manner  in  which,  by  the 
sight,  we  are  able  to  hold  converse  with  objects  at  a  distance, 
to  say  that  by  means  of  rays  of  light  transmitted  in  straight 
lines  to  the  eye,  we  perceive  them,  as  we  perceive  remote  ob- 
jects by  means  of  a  stick  held  in  our  hands  by  which  we 
touch  them,  or  in  the  language  of  Mr.  Addison  in  his  Spec- 
tator, thac  the  sight  is  only  a  more  delicate  and  diffusive 
kind  of  touch,  presenting  to  us  at  a  single  glance  the  great- 
est distances  and  magnitudes  in  the  universe.  This  is  a 
beautiful  similitude  with  which  to  please  the  fancy  in  the 
productions  of  the  poet  or  fine  writer,  but  in  the  rigid  dis- 
quisitions of  philosophy  should  be  repudiated.  How  we 
are  able  to  feel  objects  in  immediate  contact  with  us,  by 
means  of  the  organs  of  the  body,  we  know  no  more  than 
how  we  are  able,  by  means  of  rays  of  light  intromitted  into 
the  eye,  to  discern  remote  ones.  To  allege,  therefore,  as  is 
done  by  Des  Cartes  and  others,  that  we  perceive  the  upper 
and  lower  parts  of  objects  by  means  of  rays  crossing  each 
other  in  the  eyes,  as  we  are  able  to  perceive  the  upper  and 
lower  parts  of  objects  by  means  of  sticks  crossing  each  other, 
is  not  to  advance  a  single  step  in  our  philosophical  inqui- 
ries, or  in  the  development  of  the  properties  and  laws  of 
nature.  All  that  can  ever  be  known  to  the  most  diligent 
and  persevering  inquirer  on  this  point  are,  evidently,  the  fol- 
lowing facts:  that  the  rays  of  light  which  are  emitted  from 
the  upper  part  of  objects  are  transmitted  to  the  lower  part 
of  the  retina,  and  those  which  are  emitted  from  the  lower 
part  of  objects  to  the  higher  part  of  the  retina,  and  that  of 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision,  403 

consequence  these  rays  cross  each  other:  that  such  is  the 
connection  of  that  delicate  membrane,  the  tunica  retina,  with 
the  fine  capillaments  of  the  optick  nerves  leading  to  the  brain, 
that  any  action  produced  by  the  rays  of  light  upon  the  low- 
er part  of  it  gives  us  a  perception  of  the  upper  part  of  the 
object,  and  any  action  upon  the  upper  part  of  it,  in  like  man- 
ner, a  perception  of  the  lower.  This  is  a  law  of  our  con- 
stitution, and  when  we  have  resolved  it  into  that  law,  we 
have  probably  advanced  to  the  utmost  limits  of  human  know- 
ledge in  the  matter.  All  that  we  are  able  to  demonstrate  from 
fact  and  observation,  is,  that  there  are  certain  parts  of  the 
retina  which  must  be  acted  upon  by  the  rays  of  light  in  or- 
der to  present  objects  to  us  in  one  situation,  and  other  parts 
which  must  be  acted  upon  in  order  to  present  them  in  ano- 
ther. To  illustrate  this  observation  by  a  familiar  example. 
While  looking  at  a  candle,  I  press  the  ball  of  one  eye  out  of 
its  usual  position;  so  as  to  cause  its  axis  no  longer  to  be  di- 
rected towards  the  candle.  In  this  experiment,  I  no  longer 
see  a  single  candle,  but  the  real  candle,  together  with  one 
more  faint  in  its  appearance.  In  this  case,  with  the  eye 
which  has  been  undisturbed,  I  see  the  real  candle,  and  with 
the  eye  that  has  been  pressed,  such  a  candle,  as,  if  there  was 
another  real  one  in  that  direction,  would  be  so  faint  and 
dim  as  to  produce  no  greater  impression  upon  the  organ  than 
is  now  produced  by  the  one  before  me,  casting  its  rays  ob- 
liquely upon  the  bottom  of  the  eye.  Now  what  is  the  rea- 
son that  by  only  turning  my  eye  round  in  its  socket,  I  am 
made  to  see,  not  only  the  real  candle  with  one  eye,  but  the 
image  of  it  with  the  other?  Evidently,  because  upon  the 
eye  which  is  turned  aside,  the  same  effect  is  produced,  as  if 
a  real  candle  of  the  figure  and  appearance  of  the  image,  were 
presented;  that  is  to  say  the  tunica  retina,  and  the  nervous 
coat  connected  with  the  brain,  together  with  the  brain  itself, 
are  acted  upon  in  the  same  manner  as  they  would  be  if  a 
candle  of  that  appearance  were  exhibited  to  the  eye.     When 


404  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions^  £s?f. 

one  part,  therefore,  of  the  tunica  retina  is  operated  upon, 
it  is  calculated  to  present  an  object  to  us  in  one  situation; 
when  another  is  acted  upon  in  another,  and  this  upper  or 
under,  on  the  right  or  left  side.  Now,  again,  let  us  put  the 
candle  in  our  view,  and  press  our  eye  as  before,  and  we  per- 
ceive two  candles,  a  real  one  which  is  brighter,  and  its  image 
which  is  more  faint.  Let  us  now  suppose  aluminous  object 
extending  from  the  candle  to  its  image.  It  is  evident  that 
the  rays  which  come  from  the  right  hand  of  this  luminous 
object,  fall  upon  the  left  hand  of  the  retina,  and  those  which 
come  from  the  left  upon  the  right  hand  of  the  retina.  Sup- 
posing the  real  candle  before  to  have  been  upon  our  right, 
by  directing  our  eyes  to  the  right  side  of  the  luminous  ob- 
ject, we  shall  see  it  appear  as  luminous  as  the  real  candle 
did  before,  while  the  part  of  the  same  object  upon  the  left 
appears  more  faint  as  the  image  before  mentioned  did. 
These  facts  show  without  any  ro^m  for  doubt,  that  when 
those  parts  of  the  tunica  retina  that  lie  upon  the  right  hand 
are  operated  upon  by  the  rays  of  light  coming  from  any 
thing,  they  make  that  object  appear  upon  the  left,  and  vice 
versa.  The  same  reasoning  will  apply  to  the  upper  and  un- 
der parts  of  objects.  All  the  conclusion,  therefore,  to  which 
we  can  come  upon  this  subject,  is,  that  it  is  the  established 
law  of  our  constitution,  that  rays  passing  from  the  upper 
parts  of  bodies,  and  falling  upon  the  lower  parts  of  the  reti- 
na, presc-nt  to  our  perception  those  upper  parts,  while  those 
which  come  from  the  lower  impinge  upon  the  upper  regions 
of  the  retma,  and  cause  us  to  see  the  lower;  and  if  from  any 
cause  the  effect  can  be  produced  up^^n  the  upper  or  lower 
parts  of  the  retina,  the  corresponding  portion  of  the  object 
will  appear  to  be  exhibited  although  it  should  not  exist  in 
reality. 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  same  Subject  Continued. 

The  next  questions  to  be  solved  on  this  subject  are,  how 
come  we  to  see  any  object  singly  with  two  eyes?  Do  we  see 
objects  single  or  double  originally  with  both  eyes?  Is  our 
seeing  an  object  single  with  both  eyes  an  oi'iginal  or  acquir- 
ed perception? 

It  must  be  admitted  to  be  oftentimes  an  extremely  difficult 
task,  to  distinguish  our  acquired  from  our  original  percep- 
tions. In  many  cases  our  acquired  perceptions  become  so 
familiarly  connected  with  our  primitive  ones,  that  it  is  diffi- 
cult, even  in  imagination,  to  separate  them  from  each  other. 
Every  experiment  which  has  been  hitherto  made  in  this  mat- 
ter, leads  to  the  conclusion,  that  nature  has  endowed  us  with 
the  power  of  seeing  objects  single  with  both  eyes,  immedi- 
ately and  without  effort.  In  every  case  in  which  the  blind 
were  restored  to  sight  by  Cheselden,  he  could  never  dis- 
cover that  any  one  among  them  saw  objects  double.  Chil- 
dren, as  soon  as  they  begin  to  see,  move  both  eyes  in  concert, 
when  any  thing  is  presented  before  them,  which  seems  to  in- 
dicate that  both  eyes  are  employed  at  the  same  time  in  the 
contemplation  of  any  thing.  Children,  indeed,  as  well  as 
those  who  are  suddenly  restored  to  sight,  find  a  difficulty  in 
directing  their  eyes  to  different  objects;  but  they  discover  no 
difficulty  in  causing  them  to  act  together.  All  the  phenome- 
na, therefore,  lead  to  the  conclusion,  that  nature  has  com- 
municated to  us  the  power  of  effecting  a  simultaneous  mo- 
tion of  both  eyes,  in  order  more  successfully  to  accomplish 
the  purposes  of  vision;  and  this  simultaneous   movement  of 


406  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions^ 

the  eyes  is  evidently  intended  to  occasion  the  images  of  the 
same  thing  to  fall  upon  corresponding  parts  of  the  retinse, 
Now,  this  consentaneous  motion  of  the  eyes,  which  causes 
the  images  of  objects  to  fall  upon  corresponding  portions  of 
the  retinse,  must  be  produced  by  the  original  conformation 
and  adjustment  of  the  organs  of  vision,  the  eyes,  the  optic 
nerves,  the  muscles  and  other  appurtenant  membranes.  What 
can  be  the  nature  of  an  adjustment  which  leads  to  such  cu- 
rious results?  We  wish  to  indulge  no  hypothesis  in  philo- 
sophy, regarding  all  hypotheses  in  science  as  counterfeit  coin, 
whose  circulation  is  prohibited  by  the  strictest  laws  of  inves- 
tigation; but  in  a  matter  in  which  we  shall  probably  not  be 
able  to  attain  absolute  certainty,  may  not  the  solution  of 
Newton,  when  rightly  interpreted  and  clearly  understood, 
be  deemed  satisfactory?  In  his  15th  query  annexed  to  his 
optics,  he  says,  "  are  not  the  species  of  objects  seen  with 
both  eyes,  united,  where  the  optic  nerves  meet  before  they 
come  into  the  brain,  the  fibres  on  the  right  side  of  both 
nerves  uniting  there,  and  after  union  going  thence  into  the 
brain,  in  the  nerve  which  is  on  the  right  side  of  the  head,  and 
the  fibres  on  the  left  side  of  both  nerves  uniting  in  the  same 
place,  and  after  union  going  into  the  brain,  in  the  nerve  which 
is  on  the  left  side  of  the  head.,  and  these  two  nerves  meet- 
ing in  the  brain  in  such  a  manner  that  their  fibres  make  but 
one  entire  species  or  picture,  half  of  which  on  the  right  side 
of  the  sensorium,  comes  from  the  right  side  of  both  eyes, 
through  the  right  side  of  both  optic  nerves,  to  the  place  where 
the  nerves  meet,  and  from  thence  on  the  right  side  of  the  head 
into  the  brain,  and  the  other  half  on  the  left  side  of  the  senso- 
rium comes,  in  like  manner,  from  the  left  side  of  both  eyes? 
For  the  optic  nerves  of  such  animals  as  look  the  same  way 
with  both  eyes,  as  men,  dogs,  sheep,  oxen,  &c.  meet  before 
they  come  into  the  brain,  but  the  optic  nerves  of  such  animals 
as  do  not  look  the  same  way  with  both  eyes,  as  of  fishes  and 
the  cameleon,  do  not  meet,  if  I  am  rightly  informed."  I  d© 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision.  4Q7 

not  stop  here  to  inquire  into  the  correctness  of  the  opinion, 
that  the  optic  nerves  of  such  animals,  as  look  the  same  way 
with  both  eyes,  meet  on  their  way  to  the  common  sensorium, 
as  this  is  a  subject  of  doubt  and  disputation.  It  is  certain  that 
they  tend  towards  each  other,  and  very  nearly  meet  in  their 
passage  from  the  eyes,  which   is  all  that  is   necessary  to  the 
proof  of  our  theory.     Nor  do  I  stop  to  discuss   the  incom- 
prehensible   doctrine    of    sensible    species,   which    Newton 
merely  takes  up   from  the  schools,  in   order  to   convey  his 
ideas.     I  conceive   that  when  the  language   of  Newton  is 
divested   of  the  scholastic  jargon,  he   will  be  found  to  be 
aiming  at  the  truth.     In  simple  and  intelligible  phrase,  then, 
the  theory  which  Newton  here  suggests,  and  which  accord- 
ing to  his  usual  caution,  he  puts  into   the   form   of  a  mere 
query,  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  doing  when  he  was  not  able 
from  the  facts  to  arrive  at  entire  certainty,  is  this:  that  that 
adjustment  of  the  optic  nerves  by  which  they  are  made  gra- 
dually to  approach  each  other,  and  at  length  either  to  meet 
or  nearly  to  meet,  seems  like  a  contrivance  to  enable  us  with 
both  eyes  to  see  an  object  single  at  the  same  time.     Now  is 
not  this  in  a  high  degree  probable?     It  is   certain,  that   this 
is  a  matter  about   which  it  is  extremely  difficult  to   obtain 
conclusive  evidence.     From  the   position   and   delicacy    of 
these   organs,  experiments   cannot  be  made  upon  them  by 
the  investigator  of  nature;  and  of  course,  we  must  wait,  with 
patience,  for  the  disclosure  of  those  facts,  with  which  nature 
herself  shall  supply  us  in  the  ordinary  course  of  providence. 
But  in  a  case  about  which,  we  admit,  we  are  unable  to   ar- 
rive at  entire  proof,  could  any  final  cause  seem  to  be   more 
•learly  revealed,  than  that  the  optic  nerves  leading  from  the 
eyes  to  the  brain  are  made  to  join  or  approach  each  other,  in 
order  that  the   actions   which   are  excited  in   them  by   the 
images  formed  upon  the  bottom  of  the  eyes,  may  coalesce 
into  one  at  their  place  of  junction,  and  thus   occasion  in  the 
mind  one  single  perception  or  impression?     Of  what  nature 


408  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions^ 

that  action  is,  which  is  excited  in  the  tunica  retina  or  optic 
nerves,  we  know  not;  but  that  there  is  an  action  of  some  kind 
or  othtr,  has  before  been  shown  to  be  admitted  by  all  philo- 
sophers.    Now  we  could  not   conceive  of  a  contrivance  to 
make  these  actions  upon  the  nerves  of  both  eyes  to  commin- 
gle in  their  passage,  and  become  blended  into  one,  and  by  this 
means  occasion  a  single  impression  upon   the   brain,  better 
calculated  for  the   purpose,  than  that  of  causing  these  fine 
capillaments  to  meet,  or  nearly  meet,  and  touch  each  other  on 
their  way  to  the  common  sensorium.  We  have  before  stated 
our  views  of  the  system  of  Hartley,  and  repudiated  it  as  a 
mere  hypothesis,  and  unworthy  of  the  philosophy  of  the  pre- 
sent day.     A  theory,  however,  which  will  not  bear  the   test 
of  critical  examination,  may  furnish  us  with  an  apt   illustra- 
tion of  our  doctrine.     Suppose  these   optic   nerves,  leading 
from  the  fund  of  the  eyes  to  the  brain,  to  be  fine  elastic  cordsj 
like  those  of  a  stringed  instrument.  By  being  united  or  near- 
ly united  at  any  given   place  on  their  passage  to   the  brain, 
would  not  any  vibrations  excited  in  them,  be  so  mingled  and 
confounded  at  their  place  of  junction,  as  to  appear  beyond 
that  point  to  be  one  single  vibration?     Why,  then,  may  we 
not  suppose  with  Newton,  that  in  a  mode  similar  to  this,  na- 
ture, by  this  arrangement  of  the  optic  nerves,  enables  us  to 
see  objects  single  with  both  eyes?  In  this  adjustment  too,  if 
it  be  really  the  product  of  nature,  and  not  falsely  ascribed  to 
her,  we  may  discover  a  very  curious  adaptation  of  this  part 
of  the  system  to  another;  viz.  those  muscles  appertaining  to 
both  eyes  by  whose  means  we  are  able  to  move  them  in  con- 
cert, or  preserve  their  axes  parallel  to   each  other,  without 
which,  it  is  well  ascertained  from  fact  and   experience,  we 
should  see  every  object  double.  As  by  the  use  of  these  mus- 
cles we  are  enabled  to  direct  both  our  eyes  to  a  single  object, 
so  that  the  images  of  it  shall  fall  upon  corresponding  points 
of  the  retinse;  so,  by  this  tendency  of  the  optic  nerves  towards 
each  other,  one  single  impression  is  conveyed  to   the  seat  ot 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision.  409 

sensation.     Thus  one  part  of  the  system  is  seen  ministering 
to  the  successful  operation  of  another.     The  human  frame, 
throughout  its  whole  structure,  is  admitted  to  be  one  of  the 
most  curious  and  wonderful  pieces  of  mechanism   that   can 
be  presented  to  our  inspection.     However  distinct  the  mind 
may  be  from  the  body  in  its  properties  and  powers,  it  is  cer- 
tainly dependent  upon  it  in  its  present  state,  for  many  of  its 
most  familiar  and  important  operations.     If  the   muscles   or 
tendons  refuse  to  perform  their  offices,  all  voluntary  motions 
by  their  means  are  suspended.     If  the  parts  of  the  ear  con- 
trived for  the  reception  and  conveyance  of  sound  be  injured 
or  destroyed,  there  is  either  no  sensation,  or   a  very    indis- 
tinct perception  of  sounding  bodies.  If  the  humours  or  lenses 
of  the  eye  be  obscured  by  accident  or  disease,  or   the  retina 
and  nerves  leading  to  the  brain  be  disordered,  there  is   no 
vision.  In  all  these  and  numberless  other  cases  we  find  me- 
chanical contrivances  rendered  subsidiary  to  the   operations 
of  the  mind.   Why  may  they  not  be  so  in  the  case  under  con- 
sideration? It  seems  scarcely  more  certain,  that  most  of  our 
muscular  actions  are  performed  by  the  operation  of  muscles 
and  antagonist  muscles,  or  that  motions  of  the  bones  are  per- 
formed by  means  of  the  hinge  joints  in  some  instances,  and  in 
others  by  means  of  those  of  the  ball  and  socket,  than  that  the 
tendency  of  the  optic  nerves  to  unite  in  their  passage    from 
the  eyes  to  the  brain,  is  intended  to  enable  us  to  see  objects 
single  with  two  eyes. 

If  the  theory  above  maintained  be  true,  we  can  readily 
give  a  solution  of  the  question  with  which  we  commenced 
this  essay.  A  man  born  blind,  and  suddenly  restored  to 
sight  by  the  surgeon,  upon  opening  his  eyes  would  not 
originally  see  objects  double  but  single,  as  he  does  after- 
wards; and  our  seeing  objects  single  with  two  eyes  is  not  an 
acquired  but  original  perception.  This  conclusion  is  con- 
firmed by  experience.  Cheselden  could  not  discover  in 
any  one  instance,  among  those  whom  he  couched,  that  when 

3  r 


410  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions^ 

restored  to  sight  they  saw  objects  double;  and  it  is  evident 
that  children  upon  first  opening  their  eyes  see  objects  single, 
since  they  move  them  in  perfect  concert,  and  ^o  not  allow 
them  to  roll  in  their  heads,  or  wander  in  different  directions. 
The  facility  with  which  we  move  our  eyes  from  place  to 
place,  and  object  to  object,  is  the  result  of  habit,  since 
neither  children,  nor  those  who  have  been  couched,  are  able 
to  do  this  at  first  with  facility;  but  the  power  of  moving 
both  our  eyes  in  correspondence  with  each  other  seems  to  be 
instinctive. 

From  this  view  of  the  subject,  the  causes,  or  most  of  the 
causes  which  occasion  double  vision,  stand  clearly  revealed. 
If  from  any  circumstances,  as  for  instance,  spasm,  disease, 
accident,  extreme  debility  of  the  system,  alterations  pro- 
duced in  the  humours  and  lenses  of  the  eye,  or  from  any 
other  cause  of  a  similar  nature,  which  the  experience  of 
physicians  only  are  the  most  likely  to  disclose,  the  organs  of 
vision  be  impaired,  so  that  the  parallel  motion  of  the  eyes  is 
interrupted,  or  the  action  conveyed  by  the  optick  nerves  be 
intercepted  or  disturbed  in  its  transmission  to  the  brain,  or 
images  of  objects  be  formed  upon  different  parts  of  the  reti- 
na, the  object  may  appear  double.  To  mention  a  very  ordi- 
nary phenomenon,  an  instance  of  which  came  under  my  own 
observation.  A  lady  of  my  acquaintance,  on  one  occasion 
after  the  birth  of  a  child,  during  the  heat  of  summer,  be- 
came so  extremely  weak  from  indisposition,,  that  every  ob- 
ject appeared  double.  That  this  effect  was  produced  by  ex- 
treme debility  alone,  appeared  evident,  from  the  circum- 
stance, that  as  soon  as  by  proper  regimen  she  was  restored 
to  her  health  and  strength,  the  effec  ceased.  Whether  in 
this  case  her  double  vision  arose  from  a  weakness  in  the 
muscles  alone  b}  which  the  parallel  motion  of  the  eyes  is 
effected,  or  in  some  diseased  or  imperfect  action  in  the  fine 
capillaments  of  the  optick  nerves,  it  is  impossible  to  decide. 
She  remarked,    however,   during   the    continuance   of  thifs 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision,  41 1 

double  vision,  that  she  saw  no  object  as  distinctly  as  before 
every  thing  appearing  to  be  dimly  perceived,  in  comparison 
with  that  state  of  vision  to  which  she  had  been  accustomed. 
This  dimness  of  vision  was  a  natural  consequence  of  seeing 
objects  double,  as  the  real  object  in  this  instance,  would  be 
perceived  only  with  one  eye,  while  the  other  would  be 
directed  to  that  which  is  apparent  only.  The  same  effect  as 
this  is  produced  in  the  very  common  experiment  of  placing 
a  lighted  candle  before  you,  and  pressing  one  side  of  the 
eye  with  the  finger,  so  as  to  push  that  eye  out  of  its  state  of 
parallelism  with  the  other;  for  in  this  case,  two  candles  will 
appear  to  be  in  view.  This  single  experiment,  simple  as  it 
is,  shows,  that  in  order  to  see  objects  single  with  two  eyes, 
the  images  of  them  must  be  painted  upon  corresponding 
parts  of  the  retina;  for  when  by  forcing  one  of  the  eyes 
out  of  its  natural  position,  the  images  are  made  to  fall  upon 
parts  of  the  retina  which  do  not  correspond,  we  seem  to  see 
objects  double.  For  this  reason,  it  would  seem  tolerably 
certain,  that  persons  who  squint,  must  originally  see  objects 
double,  as  it  is  evident  that  from  some  defect  in  the  confor- 
mation of  the  organ,  they  are  deprived  of  the  power  of 
moving  their  eyes  so  as  to  preserve  their  axes  parallel,  and 
of  consequence  the  images  painted  on  the  retina  must  be  in 
parts  which  do  not  correspond.  That  they  will  soon  be- 
come insensible  of  this  double  vision,  and  appear  to  see  ob- 
jects like  other  people,  would  seem  to  be  also  a  natural 
result  from  the  force  of  habit.  As  the  object,  towards  which 
they  directly  turn  one  of  their  eyes,  will  always  appear  much 
brighter  than  the  apparent  figure  or  imaj^e  presented  to  the 
other,  they  would  instinctively  turn  the  attention  of  the  mind 
solely  to  it,  and  all  perception  of  the  false  object  would  soon 
pass  unnoticed.  Thus  when  we  direct  our  view  to  any 
thing  in  nature,  we  always  have  within  our  sphere  of  vision 
many  other  objects  besides  the  one  immediately  occupying 
our  attention,  although  from  the  habit  of  directing  the  view 


412  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions ^ 

of  the  mind  to  that  one  only  all  the  rest  of  them  are  unno- 
ticed. The  same  doctrine  is  confirmed  by  a  fact  related  by 
Di .  Smith  in  his  opticks.  "  If  two  lighted  candles  of  equal 
height  be  viewed  at  the  distance  of  tv/o  or  three  feet  from 
the  eyes,  so  that  the  picture  of  the  right  hand  candle,  on  the 
left  retina,  shall  correspond  to  that  of  the  left  hand  candle, 
on  the  right  retina,  only  one  image  will  be  produced  by 
these  two  corresponding  pictures.  But  the  two  pictures 
which  do  not  correspond,  viz.  that  of  the  right  hand  candle, 
on  the  right  retina,  and  that  of  the  left  hand  candle,  on  the 
left  retina,  will  each  produce  its  proper  image. 

With  these  principles  in  our  possession,  I  conceive  the 
explanation  will  be  easy,  of  the  fact  mentioned  by  Chesel- 
den.  "  A  gentleman,  he  tells  us,  who  from  a  blow  on  the 
head,  had  one  eye  distorted,  found  every  object  appear 
double;  but  by  degrees  the  most  familiar  ones  became  single; 
and  in  time  all  objects  became  so,  without  any  amendment  of 
the  distortion."  In  this  case,  may  he  not  by  habit  have  ceased 
to  pay  any  attention  to  the  false  appearances  of  objects,  and 
have  confined  his  view  solely  to  the  real  objects  themselves? 
We  can  learn  to  do  this  as  easily  with  the  eye,  as  with  the 
sense  of  hearing,  we  can  attend  solely  to  some  sounds  which 
interest  us,  and  lose  all  perception  of  the  numberless  other 
noises  which  at  the  same  moment,  may  be  assailing  the  ear. 
A  similar  explanation  may  be  given  of  another  case  referred 
to  by  Dr.  Smith  in  a  note,  upon  article  1.37,  of  his  opticks. 
"  The  Rev  Mr.  Foster,  having  been  blind  for  some  years,  of 
a  gutta  Serena,  was  restored  to  sight  by  salivation.  Upon 
his  first  beginning  to  see,  all  objects  appeared  to  him  double; 
but  afterwards  the  two  appearances  approaching  by  degrees, 
he  came  at  last  to  see  single,  and  as  distinctly  as  he  did  be- 
fore he  was  blind."  After  IVlr.  Foster,  by  salivation,  had 
been  relieved  from  the  obstruction  which  prevented  his  see- 
ing, the  double  appearance  of  objects  might  have  been  occa- 
sioned at  first  by  some  irregular  action  in  the  muscles  of  the 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision.  413 

eye,  or  in  the  nerves  leading  to  the  brain,  which  ceased  as 
soon  as  he  was  restored  to  sound  and  perfect  health.  Upon 
the  whole  we  think  that  upon  the  true  inductive  plan  of  rea- 
soning, in  which  all  our  conclusions  are  made  to  rest  upon 
experience  and  observation,  we  have  sufficient  ground  upon 
which  to  establish  the  following  principles;  that  we  are 
originally  so  constituted  by  our  Creator  as  to  see  objects 
single  with  both  eyes;  that  in  order  to  this  purpose,  the  mus- 
cles and  membranes  of  the  eyes  are  so  adjusted,  as  to  ena- 
ble us  to  move  them  in  concert  with  each  other;  that  images 
of  objects  are  formed  upon  corresponding  parts  of  the  retina; 
and  that  a  similar  action  upon  the  optick  nerves  leading  to 
the  brain  must  be  produced,  and  that  those  actions  must  be 
made  to  mingle  and  coalesce  in  their  progress  to  the  senso- 
rium.  These  are  doctrines  which  appear  to  be  sufficiently 
proved  by  experience.  It  must  be  left  to  the  practitioners 
of  medicine  to  determine  in  each  case  the  remedies,  which 
will  be  most  likely  to  effect  a  cure.  In  the  case  of  double 
vision  arising  out  of  debility,  the  system  must  be  strengthen- 
ed and  its  tone  restored,  and  in  that  of  squinting  every  ex- 
pedient should  be  resorted  to,  consistent  with  the  delicacy 
of  the  case,  to  assist  the  muscles  in  performing  their  regular 
functions  of  dilatation  and  contraction,  so  as  to  communi- 
cate to  the  eyes  their  appointed  movements. 

Mr.  De  la  Hire  supposes,  as  Mr.  Jurin  represents  his  opi- 
nion, that  in  the  generality  of  mankind,  that  part  of  the  reti- 
na, which  is  seated  in  and  about  the  axis  of  the  eye,  is  of  a 
more  delicate  sense  and  perception,  than  what  the  rest  of 
that  coat  is  endowed  with;  and  therefore,  that  we  direct  both 
axes  to  the  same  object,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  direct 
vision,  whereby  the  image  of  the  object  may  be  more  dis- 
tinctly and  perfectly  painted  upon  the  retina,  but  likewise, 
and  indeed,  chiefly,  in  order  to  receive  the  picture  upon  that 
part  of  the  retina,  which  can  best  and  most  accurately  per- 
ceive it.     But  in  persons  who  squint,  he  conceives  the  most 


414  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions  ^ 

sensible  part  of  the  retina  of  one  eye,  not  to  be  placed  in  the 
axis,  but  at  some  distance  from  it  on  the  one  side,  or  on  the 
other;  and  that,  therefore,  in  the  eye  so  unusually  framed, 
not  the  axis  but  this  more  sensible  part  of  the  retina  is  turn- 
ed toward  the  object,  on  which  the  axis  of  the  other  eye  is 
fixed;  and  consequently  both  axes  are  not  directed  to  the 
same  point!"  It  this  theory  were  true,  which  Dr.  Smith  by 
an  appeal  to  fact  and  experience  has  demonstrated  to  be 
false,  would  not  persons  who  squint  always  see  objects  dou- 
ble? I  apprehend  they  would,  since  in  this  case,  images  of 
any  object  would  not  be  formed  upon  corresponding  points 
of  the  retina,  and  yet  each  one  would  be  as  bright  and  dis- 
tinct as  the  other,  and  of  course  the  object  would  be  as 
clearly  seen  by  one  eye  as  the  other.  After  confuting  by 
unanswerable  arguments  the  opinion  of  Mr.  De  le  Hire, 
Mr.  Jurin,  1  conceive,  falls  into  mistakes  himself.  *'  Nor  is 
squinting  occasioned,"  says  he,  "  by  any  defect  in  the  mus- 
cles of  the  distorted  eye.  For  when  the  other  is  shut,  this  eye 
is  moved  by  the  action  of  its  muscles,  in  all  possible  direc- 
tions, as  freely  as  that  of  any  other  person."  This  argument 
by  no  means  proves  the  point  at  which  it  aims.  For  might 
not  the  muscles  be  so  formed  as  to  move  both  eyes  very 
freely  in  their  sockets,  and  yet  be  so  imperfectly  adjusted 
during  the  formation  of  the  foetus  in  the  womb  as  to  pull  ir- 
regularly, and  occasion  that  distortion  which  is  called  squint- 
ing? Ropes  might  easily  be  adjusted  so  as  to  pull  two 
globes  freely  at  the  same  time  in  their  sockets,  and  yet  not 
act  in  concert  with  each  other.  Neither  is  his  second  proof 
any  more  conclusive.  "  Neither  is  it  (squinting)  owing,"  he 
continues,  "  to  the  want  of  correspondence  in  the  muscles  of 
both  eyes,  such  as  to  hinder  them  from  being  both  moved 
the  same  way  at  the  same  time.  For  when  both  eyes  are 
open,  and  the  undistorted  eye  is  moved  either  upwards  or 
downwards,  or  to  the  right  or  left,  the  other  always  accom- 
panies it,  and  is  turned  the  same  way  at  the  same  instant  of 


And  the  Metaphysics  of  Vision.  415 

time."  Surely  the  muscles  might  be  so  arranged  as  to  pull 
the  eyes  the  same  way  at  the  same  time;  and  yet,  if  from 
any  defect  in  their  original  formation,  they  could  not  con- 
tract and  dilate  alike,  they  might  draw  one  of  the  eyes  out 
of  its  state  of  parallelism  with  the  other,  and  thus  occasion 
that  plienomenon  which  is  called  squinting? 

It  is  very  possible  that  squinting  may,  in  some  instances, 
be  produced  in  the  manner  maintained  by  Mr.  Jurin.  He 
thinks,  that  in  persons  of  this  description,  when  they  look  at 
any  object,  the  pupil  of  the  distorted  eye  is  drawn  close  to 
the  nose,  and  the  distance  between  the  pupils  lessened,  and 
this  lesser  distance  between  the  two  pupils  continues  the 
same  in  all  oblique  directions  of  the  eye:  so  that  the  two 
axes  are  never  pointed  at  the  same  object,  though  the  mus- 
cles do  so  far  act  in  concert  with  each  other,  as  to  move 
both  the  eyes  the  same  way  at  the  same  instant  of  time. 

If  I  am  not  mistaken,  squinting  is  not  always  occasioned 
by  the  pupils  coming  nearer  to  each  other,  than  they  do  in 
those  persons  not  affected  with  this  blemish,  as  the  same  de- 
fective appearance  in  the  eyes  would  be  exhibited  in  case 
the  pupils  were  always  too  remote  from  each  other.  But  even 
supposing  that  they  do,  do  we  not  find  at  the  same  time,  that 
the  eyes  do  not  move  in  concert,  and  that  the  axis  of  the 
deformed  one  always  approaches  too  near,  or  recedes  too  far 
from  the  perfect  one? 

We  concur  in  the  concluding  observations  of  Mr.  Jurin 
under  this  article.  "  This  vicious  habit,"  says  he,  "  of  squint- 
ing, may  be  contracted  by  a  child,  if  he  is  often  laid  in  his 
cradle  in  such  a  position,  as  to  be  able  to  see  either  the 
light  or  any  other  remarkable  object  with  one  eye  only. 
And  when  by  this  means  he  is  brought  to  squint,  and  is  af- 
terwards confirmed  and  settled  in  the  practice  of  doing  so, 
I  apprehend  it  will  be  in  vain  to  attempt  a  cure  by  his  wear- 
ing tubes  or  shells,  with  small  holes  in  them  to  look  through. 
Do  what  you  will  of  this   kind,   he    will    continue   to  see 


416  Of  our  Acquired  Perceptions^  &c. 

through  them  distinctly  with  one  eye  only,  and  will  still  dis- 
tort the  other.  The  true  method  of  cure,  I  take  to  be  this. 
W^hen  the  child  is  arrived  at  such  an  age  as  to  be  capabU  of 
observing  directions,  place  him  directly  before  you,  and  let 
him  close  the  undistorted  eye,  and  look  at  you  with  the 
other.  When  you  find  the  axis  of  this  eye  fixed  directly 
upon  you,  bid  him  endeavour  to  keep  it  in  that  situation,  and 
open  his  other  eye,  you  will  now  immediattly  see  the  dis- 
torted eye  turn  away  from  you  towards  his  nose,  and  the 
axis  of  the  other  will  be  pointed  at  you.  But  with  patience 
and  repeated  trials,  he  will  learn  by  this  effort  to  keep  the 
distorted  eye  fixed  upon  you,  and  thus  effect  a  cure." 


CHAPTER  III. 


Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses.' 


That  our  senses  sometimes  deceive  us,  furnishes  no  ar- 
gument against  the  truth  of  those  informations  which  they 
give  in  their  sound  and  natural  state,  and  respecting  those 
things  concerning  which  their  testimony  ought  to  be  trusted. 
Besides,  admitting  the  veracity  of  their  testimony  as  the  re- 
porters of  matters  of  fact,  the  errors  into  which  they  lead 
may  all  be  accounted  for  upon  the  strictest  principles  of 
philosophy.  Nothing  can  be  more  idle  and  unworthy  of  the 
serious  and  sober  spirit  of  philosophy,  than  a  sceptical  turn 
of  mind.  Our  powers  of  understanding,  although  no  doubt 
competent  to  every  useful  and  important  purpose  of  life,  and 
exactly  accommodated  to  our  state  of  being,  it  is  not  to  be 
denied,  are  extremely  limited,  and  our  investigations  neces- 
sarily circumscribed  by  very  narrow  bounds.  But,  because 
pur  faculties  are  not  able  to  penetrate  into  all  mysteries,  and 
all  knowledge,  to  deny  ourselves  the  advantage  and  enjoy- 
ment  of  that  portion  which  we  can  attain,  and  arrest  our  foot- 
steps at  our  first  appi'oach  into  the  dominions  of  nature,  because 
we  are  not  able  by  a  single  effort  to  tear  off  the  veil  in  which 
she  shrouds  her  secret  operations,  and  disclose  to  view  her 
mighty  plan;  discovers  not  only  an  irreverence  for  the  Crea- 
tor, who  hath  bestowed  upon  us  our  rational  powers,  bordering 
upon  impiety,  but  the  utmost  levity  and  wantonness  of  mind. 

We  have  before  illustrated  the  justness  of  the  observation, 
that  in  all  our  acquired  perceptions  we  proceed  accordipgto 

3  G 


418  Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses, 

the  interpretation  of  signs,  and  whenever  the  sign  of  any 
thing  is  presented,  the  mind  naturally  concludes  that  the 
thing  signified  is  present.  A  gentleman  passing  along  the 
streets  of  Philadelphia,  imagines  that  he  perceives  a  steam- 
boat in  the  Delaware  at  a  distance,  but  upon  approaching  it, 
finds  that  he  was  deceived,  for  that  the  object  he  saw  was 
a  sign- post  before  an  inn,  upon  which  the  representation  of 
a  steam-boat  was  rudely  painted.  Here  the  same  sign  was 
presented  to  his  eye  as  if  a  sieam-boat  had  been  really  mov- 
ing upon  the  river.  In  the  same  manner  are  effected  all  de- 
ceptions of  sight,  touch,  taste,  or  hearing. 

In  the  month  of  January,  of  the  present  year,  1821,  three 
suns  were  distinctly  seen  in  the  heavens,  at  Montreal,  in 
Lower  Canada,  and  we  know  that  in  Europe  two,  three,  five, 
and  even  seven,  have  been  seen  at  one  time.  These  pheno- 
mena are  occasioned  by  the  refraction  and  reflection  of  rays 
of  light  during  a  very  condensed  state  of  the  atmosphere. 
Now,  what  should  we  think  of  that  man  who,  because  two, 
three,  or  even  six  suns,  besides  the  real  sun,  are  sometimes 
perceived,  should  maintain  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a 
real  sun?  And  yet  this  man  would  have  much  better  ground 
for  his  conclusion  than  the  sceptick  who  denies  the  evidence 
of  the  senses,  since  he,  in  this  case,  distrusts  only  the  evi- 
dence of  his  eyes.  In  the  very  common  experiment  of  cros- 
sing the  fingers,  and  placing  a  pea  or  marble  between  them 
so  that  it  shall  touch  two  sides  of  the  fingers  which  do  not 
correspond,  there  appear  to  be  two  peas  or  marbles.  Here 
also  there  is  presented  the  sign  by  which  we  have  been  ac- 
customed to  distinguish  two  objects  of  this  nature,  and  of 
course,  two  appear  to  be  present.  It  is  for  want  of  a  know- 
ledge of  this  kind,  and  frequent  observation  of  such  signs, 
that  children  and  ignorant  persons  are  so  apt  to  be  mistaken 
in  the  perception  of  objects  at  a  distance,  or  of  those  whose 
appearances  are  not  clearly  discerned.  And  even,  with  per- 
sons the  most  intelligent,  the  nicest  observation  becomes  ne- 


Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses.  419 

cessary  in  order  rightly  to  distinguish  objects  by  these  signs, 
and  from  the  earliest  period  of  life,  we  are  acting  the  philo- 
sophers in  this  respect,  although  unconsciously  to  ourselves, 
in  the  prosecution  of  this  kind  of  study.  The  force  of  re- 
flection and  habit  in  these  matters  is  rendered  very  evident 
by  the  consideration,  that  whenever  we  are  taken  off  our 
guard,  and  unprepared  to  form  a  judgment,  we  discover  all 
the  imbecility  and  incapacity  of  children.  A  strong  reason 
in  such  cases  is  of  little  or  no  avail.  He  who  has  been  ac- 
customed to  determine  magnitude  and  distances  only  upon 
a  horizontal  plain,  finds  himself  greatly  at  a  loss  in  determi- 
ning them  when  he  looks  up  to  a  height,  or  down  from  some 
elevation.  The  men,  who  according  to  Shakspeare's  re- 
presentation, when  beheld  upon  the  strand  from  the  heights 
of  Dover,  appeared  like  rooks  or  crows,  if  beheld  upon  a 
lefvel  surface,  would  have  assumed  their  natural  dimensions. 
A  man  seen  through  a  mist  appears  much  larger  than  he 
really  is,  because  to  the  circumstance  of  his  usual  size  in  nature, 
and  the  image  upon  the  retina,  there  is  added  also  the  other 
part  of  the  sign  of  great  bulk,  to  which  we  become  fami- 
liarized, that  of  great  distance,  in  the  dimness  with  which 
he  is  viewed.  A  tree  when  beheld  over  a  wall,  however 
large  or  remote  it  may  be,  appears  to  be  a  small  shrub  or 
twig,  resting  upon  the  wall;  until  we  become  sensible  of  the 
interjacent  space,  and  then  the  delusion  vanishes.  Bishop 
Berkeley  remarked  that  when  passing  through  Italy,  on  ac- 
count of  the  uncommon  clearness  of  the  Italian  sky,  objects 
which  were  remote  appeared  much  nearer  to  him  than  they 
did  in  other  climates.  Oblique  distances  appear  longer  in 
proportion  as  the  eye  is  raised  higher,  to  view  them  more 
distinctly,  and  long  walks  with  a  rising  mount  or  ascent  at 
the  end,  appear  longer  than  they  really  are,  especially  if  tlxey 
be  artfully  ccmtracted  at  the  ascent  so  as  to  present  the  na- 
tural appearance  of  a  long  level  walk  with  parallel  sides. 
Animals  and  houses,  and   all  objects  of  this  nature   appear 


4120  Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses. 

smaller  upon  the  sides  of  mountains  than  in  any  other  posi- 
tions, because   mountains  always  appear  nearer  to  us  than 
they  are.     Dechales  tells  us,  says  Dr.  Smith  in  his  opticks, 
from  whom  I  have  taken  several  of  these  fallacies  of  vision, 
that  while  he  stood  at  the  bottom  of  a  mountain,  he  once  ob- 
served a  parcel  of  crows  going  to  fly  over  it,  which,  at  first, 
he  thought  were  higher  than   the    mountain,  but  he  found 
they  spent  half  an  hour  in  ascending   before  they  got  to  the 
top.     Aguilonius,  continues  the  Doctor,  mentions  a  fallacy 
in  distance,  which  he  had  frequently  observed  and  admired. 
In  a  warm  summer's   morning  when  fogs  are  exhaled  from 
moist  ground,  we  frequently  see  them  very  near  us  in  some 
known  place;  but  so  soon   as  they  are  separated  from  the 
ground  and  are  going  to  ascend,  they  appear  so  remote,  that 
he  could  never  have  believed  that  they  hung  over  that  place, 
had  he  not  seen  them  there  but  the  moment  before.     The 
reason    is,    that  they,    then,    appear    in  the    manner    and 
direction  of  other  remote  clouds  in  the  horizon,  whose  dif- 
ference and  distance  cannot  be  discerned   for  want  of  some 
visible  surface   extended  between  them,  like  the  surface  of 
the  ground  while  the  rising  cloud  lay  upon  it.     It  is  said  to 
be  a  common  observation  of  travellers  that  small  objects,  as 
houses  and  trees,  seen  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  appear  re- 
mote, and  larger  than  they  naturally  are.     The  same  view 
of  this  subject  will   serve  to  account  for  the  following  facts 
mentioned  by  Mr.  Jefferson  in  his  notes  upon  Virginia,  page 
122.  "  Having  had  occasion,"  says  he,"  to  mention  the  parti- 
cular situation  of  Monticello  for  other  purposes,  I  will  just 
take  notice  that  its  elevation  affords  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
a  phenomenon  which  is  rare  at  land,  though  frequent  at  sea. 
The  seamen   call  it  looming.     Philosophy  is  as   yet  in  the 
rear  of  the  seamen,  for  so  far  from  having  accounted  for  it, 
she  has  not  given  it  a  name.     Its  principal   effect  is  to  make 
distant  objects  appear  larger,  in  opposition  to  the  general 
laws  of  vision,  by  which  they  are   diminished.     I  know  a« 


Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses.  421 

instance  at  Yorktown  from  whence  the  water  prospect  east- 
wardly  is  without  termination;  wherein  a  canoe  with  three 
men,  at  a  great  distance,  was  taken  for  a  ship  with  its  three 
masts.     I  am  little  acquainted  with  the   phenomenon  as  it 
shows  itself  at  sea;  hut  at    Monticello  it  is  familiar.     There 
is  a  solitary  mountain  about  forty  miles  off  in   the  South, 
whose  natural  shape  as  presented  to  view,  is  a  regular  cone; 
but  by  the  effect  of  looming,  it  sometimes  subsides  almost 
totally  in  the  horizon;   sometimes  it  rises  more   acute  and 
more  elevated;  sometimes  it  is  hemispherical;  and  sometimes 
its  sides  are  perpendicular,  its  top  flat,   and   as  broad  as  its 
base.     In   short,  it  assumes   at    times   the   most  whimsical 
shapes,   and  all    these,    perhaps,   successively    in  the  same 
morning.     The  Blue  Ridge  of  mountains  comes  into  view,  in 
the  North-east,  at  about  one  hundred  miles  distance,  and  ap- 
proaching in  a  direct  line,  passes  by  within  twenty  miles,  and 
goes  off  to  the  South-west.  This  phenomenon  begins  to  show 
itself  on  these  mountains,  at  about  fifty  miles  distance,  and 
continues  beyond  that  as  far  as  they  are  seen.     I  remark  no 
particular  state,  either  in  the  weight,  moisture  or  heat  of 
the  atmosphere,  necessary  to  produce  this.     The  only  con- 
stant circunastances  are  its  appearance  in  the  morning  only, 
and  on  objects  at  least  forty  or  fifty  miles  distant.     In  this  lat- 
ter circumstance,  if  not  in  both,   it   differs  from  the  looming 
on  the  water.     Refraction  will  not  account  for  the  meta- 
morphosis.    That  only  changes  the  proportion  of  length  and 
breadth,  base  and   altitude,  preserving  the  general  outhnes^ 
Thus  it  may  make  a  circle   appear  eliptical,  raise  or  depress 
a  cone,  but  by   none  of  its  laws,   as   yet  developed,  will  it 
make  a  circle  appear  a  square,  or   a  cone  a  sphere."     With 
all  due  respect  and  deference  to  the   opinion  of  this  distin- 
guished man,  distinguished  alike  in  the  history  of  his  coun- 
try's politicks  and  her  literature,  I  apprehend,  that  the  phe- 
nomena here  stated  of  the  ^anoe,  which  in  the  bay  of  York- 
town  IS  sometimes   mistaken  for  a  ship,  and  of  the  various 


422  Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses. 

appearances  exhibited  by  the  mountain  to  be  seen  fronti  Mon- 
ticello,  are  to  be  ranged  under  very  different   classes,  and 
solved  upon  different  principles.     When  a  canoe,  with  three 
rowers  in  it,  is  seen  at  a  distance  through  the  mist  or  to- 
wards the  dusk  of  evening,  and  is  mistaken  for  a  ship,  this 
fact  is  to  be  classed  under  those  fallacies  of  vision,  which  the 
seaman,   indeed,   denominates  looming,  and  which  although 
its  name  is  unknown  to  the  systems  of  philosophy,  yet  the 
thing  itself  is  perfectly  familiar,  and  has  been  repeatedly  ex- 
plained.    Nothing  is  more  deceptive  than  the  view    of  dis- 
tances upon  water,  and  when  to  this  circumstance   is  added 
a  misty   air   and  obscurity  of  the   object,   another   sign  of 
great  distance,  the  smallest  things   may  easily  appear  to  the 
sight  to  be  the  largest.     There  is  nothing  more  commonly 
known  in  optical  science  than  that  inversion  of  the  ordinary 
laws  of  vision,  by  which  distant   objects  are  made  to  appear 
lai-ger  than  they  really  are.     Every  day's  rising  and  setting 
sun  furnishes  an  example  of  this  kind.     As  to  the  singular 
variety  of  appearances  exhibited  by  the  mountain  in   the  vi- 
cinity of  Monticello,  I  presume  they  are  all  referable  to  the 
ordinary  laws  of  the  reflection  and  refraction  of  light.  Such 
a  changeable  medium  as  the  mist  of  the  morning  which  lin- 
gers upon  a  valley  below  a   mountain,  would  very  naturally, 
when  that  mountain  was  beheld  through  means  of  the  light 
that  passed  through  it,  be  altered  into  the  most  various  and 
fantastick  forms.     The  writings  upon  opticks  supply  us  with 
instances  of  this  kind  in  the  greatest  abundance. 

I  shall  conclude  this  brief  article  upon  deceptions  of 
sight,  by  an  attempt  to  explain  that  phenomenon  so  often  ob- 
served, and  of  which  so  many  solutions  have  been  given,  the 
increased  dimensions  of  the  sun  and  moon  in  their  apparent 
diameter,  at  their  rising  and  setting.  Dr.  Smith,  in  his  op- 
tics, gives  the  same  solution  of  this  phenomenon,  as  had  be- 
fore been  given  by  Mallebranche,  Dr.  Wallis,  and  others.  He 
remarks  that  the  apparent  sky  above  us,  in  which  the  sun 


Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses..  423 

and  moon  seem  to  move,  is  not  a  complete  hemisphere,  in 
the  centre  of  which  is  placed  the  eye  of  the  spectator,  but  a 
less  portion  of  a  spherical  surface  than  a  hemisphere,  where 
the  e)  e  of  the  spectator  is  greatly  above  the  centre  of  the 
concavity.  Of  this  flatted  concavity  of  the  sky  above  us,  we 
are  all  sensible;  that  is  to  say,  that  part  of  the  sky  which 
rests  upon  the  horizon,  appears  to  be  much  more  remote 
from  us,  than  that  which  is  in  the  meridian  over  our  heads. 
This,  we  are  told,  affords  a  solution  of  the  phenomenon  of 
the  increased  size  of  the  rising  and  setting  sun. 

For  we  judge  not  of  the  m^nitude  of  any  object,  says 
Dr.  Wallis,  as  quoted  by  Bishop  Berkeley,  by  the  visual 
angle  alone,  but  by  the  visual  angle  in  conjunction  with  the 
distance.  Hence,  though  the  angle  remain  the  same,  or  even 
become  less,  yet  if  withal  the  distance  seem  to  have  been 
increased,  the  object  shall  appear  greater.  Now  one  way, 
whereby  we  estimate  the  distance  of  any  thing,  is  the 
number  and  extent  of  the  intermediate  objects.  When, 
therefore,  the  moon  is  seen  in  the  horizon,  the  variety  of 
fields,  houses,  &c.  together  with  the  large  prospect  of  the 
wide  extended  land  or  sea,  that  lies  between  the  eye  and  the 
utmost  limb  of  the  horizon,  suggest  unto  the  mind  the  idea 
of  greater  distance.  And  this  is  the  true  account  of  the  ex- 
traordinary largeness,  attributed  by  the  mind  to  the  hori- 
zontal moon,  at  a  time  when  the  angle  subtended  by  its  di- 
ameter, is  not  one  jot  greater  than  it  used  to  be. 

The  account  here  given  of  this  phenomenon,  is  the  same 
as  that  of  Dr.  Smith.  I  have  been  the  more  particular,  says 
the  Dr.,  in  considering  the  apparent  figure  of  the  sky,  be- 
cause I  do  not  find  it  has  ever  been  determined,  although  it 
be  absolutely  necessary  to  a  satisfactory  solution  of  several 
noted  appearances  in  the  heavens;  for  instance,  supposing 
the  arch  ABC,  (See  the  Plate.)  to  represent  that  apparent 
concavity;  I  find  the  diameter  of  the  sun  or  moon,  will 
seem  to  bfe  greater  in  the  horizon  than  at  any  proposed  alti- 


Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses*  425 

tude,  measured  by  the  angle  AOB,  in  the  proportion  of  its 
apparent  distances,  OA,  OB.  The  numbers  that  express 
these  proportions,  are  represented  to  the  eye  in  the  figure 
over  against  the  corresponding  altitudes  of  the  sun  or  moon, 
in  which  the  suns  or  moons  placed  in  the  quadrantal  arch 
FG,  described  about  the  centre  O,  are  all  equal  to  each 
other,  and  represent  the  body  of  the  moon  at  the  heights 
there  noted;  and  the  unequal  moons  in  the  concavity  ABC, 
are  terminated  by  the  visual  rays  that  come  from  the  cir- 
cumference of  the  real  moon,  at  those  heights  to  the  eye  at 
O.  The  diameters  of  these  unequal  moons,  at  A  and  B,  do 
therefore,  bear  the  same  proportioti  to  each  other  as  their 
apparent  distances  OA,  OB;  and  they  must  appear  in  the 
very  same  proportion  that  they  really  have  in  this  concave, 
because  we  judge  all  objects  in  the  heavens  to  be  in  this 
very' surface;  and  so  the  appearance  to  the  eye  is  exactly  the 
same,  as  if  several  moons  were  painted  upon  a  real  surface 
ABC,  in  the  proportions  here  assigned;  though  the  visible 
magnitudes  of  them  all  answering  to  their  equal  images  upon 
the  retina,  were  exactly  equal. 

This  theory  is  ingenious,  and  I  doubt  not,  contains  in  it 
some  degree  of  truth.  To  the  extent,  however,  to  which  it 
is  carried  by  Dr.  Smith,  it  is  justly  liable  to  some  objec- 
tions. There  are  two  objections  against  it,  considered  as  the 
sole  cause  of  the  phenomenon  in  question,  which  at  once 
strike  the  mind,  and  cannot  easily  be  obviated. 

The  one  is,  that  in  this  calculation  there  is  no  allowance 
made  for  the  different  sizes  of  the  sun's  apparent  disk,  as  it 
descends  at  different  times,  upon  the  limb  of  the  horizon; 
and  the  other,  that  if  we  look  at  the  sun  or  moon,  at  its  ris- 
ing or  setting,  through  a  window,  in  such  a  manner  that  all 
prospect  of  the  concavity  of  the  sky,  and  interposing  space 
of  earth,  shall  be  cut  off,  the  same  appearance  of  increased 
magnitude  is  exhibited.     The  first  of  these  objections  has 

3  H 


426  Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses. 

been  anticipated  by  Dr.  Smith,  in  a  note  upon  article  164  of 
his  optics,  where  he  acknowledges  that  the  horizontal  sun 
and  moon  appear  at  different  times,  of  different  magnitudes. 
In  order  to  remove  this  difficulty,  he  supposes,  that  in  such 
cases,  the  images  formed  upon  the  retina  are  larger  or  smal- 
ler. He  inclines  to  the  opinion,  that  the  largest  horizontal 
moons,  happen  generally  at  her  perigee  in  the  warmest  sum- 
mer evenings,  the  barometer  being  low,  and  the  thermome- 
ter high;  and  on  the  contrary,  that  the  smallest  horizontal 
moons,  happen  generally  at  her  apogee  in  the  coldest  winter 
mornings,  the  barometer  being  high,  and  the  thermometer 
low.  According  to  this  account  the  largest  suns  and  moons, 
when  setting  or  rising,  should  be  seen  through  a  clear  and 
thin  atmosphere  in  summer,  and  the  smallest  through  a 
thick  and  dense  one  in  winter,  as  these  are  known  to  be  the 
results,  if  they  depend  solely  upon  the  refraction  of  the  rays 
of  light.  I  am  entirely  convinced,  however,  from  my  own 
uniform  experience,  that  not  only  is  this  account  erroneous, 
but  that  the  direct  contrary  is  the  fact.  At  all  seasons  of  the 
year,  I  have  remarked,  that  the  sun  varied  in  his  dimen- 
sions at  setting,  and  that  too  in  quick  succession,  sometimes 
scarcely  appearing  to  be  diminished,  and  at  other  times  ex- 
hibiting his  greatest  magnitude.  As  far  as  my  observation 
has  extended,  too,  I  have  become  convinced  that  the  sun's 
disk  is  always  larger  at  setting,  when  we  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve, that  the  air  is  filled  with  exhalations.  Just  before  a 
spell  of  wet  weather,  it  is  largest;  and  before  a  long  succes- 
sion of  dry  and  clear  weather,  it  is  uniformly  smallest,  the 
very  reverse  of  what  Dr.  Smith  supposes  to  be  true. 

As  to  the  second  objection  to  the  theory,  that  the  increas- 
ed size  of  the  sun  and  moon  at  setting,  depends  upon  a  view 
of  the  interjacent  distance  and  objects,  I  would  proceed  to 
remark. 

If  this  be  the  sole  cause  of  their  augmented  size,  how 
happens  it  that  the  sun  or  moon,  when  rising   or  setting,  if 


Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses.  427 

viewed  through  a  window,  where  both  the  flatted  concave 
of  the  sky,  and  the  view  of  interjacent  fields  are  excluded, 
still  appear  larger?  After  having  made  several  observations, 
all  of  which  went  to  confirm  me  in  the  impression,  that  this 
presented  a  very  great  difficulty  in  the  system  of  Dr.  Smith, 
upon  recurring  to  Bishop  Berkeley's  essay  at  a  new  theory 
of  vision,  I  find  that  he  has  in  part  anticipated  the  objection 
I  have  stated.  "  With  reference  to  this  opinion,  I  shall  only 
observe,"  says  he,  "that  if  the  prospect  of  interjacent  ob- 
jects, be  that  which  suggests  the  idea  of  farther  distance,  and 
that  idea  of  farther  distance,  be  the  cause  that  brings  into 
the  mind  the  idea  of  greater  magnitude,  it  should  hence  fol- 
low, that  if  one  looked  at  the  horizontal  moon,  from  behind 
a  wall,  it  would  appear  no  bigger  than  ordinary."  The  ob- 
jection, as  stated  by  Bishop  Berkeley,  is  not  entirely  conclu- 
sive; and  may  be  evaded  by  alleging,  that  although  the  wall 
will  cut  off  the  whole  prospect  of  interjacent  space,  yet  one 
of  the  signs  of  distance  still  remains,  the  apparent  figure  of 
the  sky.  But  how  shall  we,  upon  Dr.  Smith's  principles,  ac- 
count for  the  fact  mentioned  above,  that  even  when  the  ri- 
sing or  setting  sun  is  viewed  through  a  window,  or  from  any 
situation  in  which  all  prospect  of  the  sky  above,  or  earth  be- 
neath is  excluded,  it  still  exhibits  the  same  augmented  size? 
It  will  not  answer  to  refer  this  to  the  force  of  habit,  for  ha- 
bits cannot  lead  us  to  be  deluded  by  fallacies  in  vision,  when 
the  very  signs  themselves,  by  which  those  fallacies  are  oc- 
casioned, are  removed.  It  appears  to  me,  therefore,  that  so 
many  contradictory  phenomena  are  presented  to  the  theory 
of  Dr.  Smith,  that  we  are  compelled  to  resort  to  other  prin- 
ciples in  addition  to  his,  in  order  to  solve  them  all.  These 
principles,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  have  been  stated  and  ably 
defended  by  Berkeley,  although  greatly  mixed  with  errors, 
and  tinged  as  all  his  writings  are,  with  his  fanciful  doctrine 
of  immaterialism.  In  his  essay  at  a  new  theory  of  vision,  the 


428  Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses. 

most  valuable  of  his  productions,  he  says — "  Now  in  order 
to  explain  the  reason  ot  the  moon's  appearing  greater  than 
ordinary  in  the  horizon,  it  must  be  observed,  that  the  parti- 
cles which  compose  our  atmosphere,  intercept  the  rays  of 
light  proceeding  from  any  object  to  the  eye,  and  by  how 
much  the  greater  is  the  portion  of  atmosphere,  interjacent 
between  the  object  and  the  e)e,  by  so  much  the  more  are  the 
rays  intercepted;  and  by  consequence,  the  appearance  of  the 
object  rendered  more  faint,  in  proportion  as  it  sendeth  more 
or  fewer  rays  into  the  eye.  Now,  between  the  eye  and  the 
moon,  when  situated  in  the  horizon,  there  lies  a  far  greater 
quantity  of  atmosphere,  than  there  does  when  the  moon  is 
in  the  meridian.  Whence  it  comes  to  pass,  that  the  appear- 
ance of  the  horizontal  moon  is  fainter,  and  therefore,  it 
should  be  bigger  in  that  situation,  than  in  the  meridian,  or 
in  any  other  elevation  above  the  horizon."  This  is  the  so- 
lution of  Bishop  Berkeley,  which  receives  strong  confirma- 
tion from  many  phenomena,  and  which  seems  to  be  indis- 
pensable to  account  for  the  changes  or  variations,  which  are 
continually  taking  place  in  the  dimensions  of  the  horizontal 
sun  and  moon;  and  more  especially  from  the  appearances  ex- 
hibited by  them,  when  neither  the  concave  surface  of  the 
sky,  nor  the  interjacent  planes  are  perceived.  Dr.  Smith 
has  undertaken  to  refute  these  doctrines  of  Bishop  Berke- 
ley, but  I  think  without  success.  The  arguments  with  which 
he  assaults  them,  we  shall  now  state,  and  endeavour  to  show 
that  they  are  insufficient.  First,  he  maintains,  "  experience 
shows  that  various  degrees  of  the  moon's  faintness,  make  no 
sensible  variations  of  her  apparent  magnitude,  because  the 
moon  appi  ars  much  fainter  in  the  day-time  than  in  the  night, 
and  therefore,  according  to  our  author's  principle,  should 
apj)ear  larger  by  day  than  by  night,  at  the  same  height, 
which  I  could  never  perceive,  though  I  have  often  viewed 
the  moon  for  this  purpose."  This  is  by  no  means  a  just  in- 
ference from  Bishop  Berkeley's  doctrine.     It  is  not  every 


Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses.  429 

kind  of  faintness  in  appearance,  which  suggests  to  the  mind 
great  distance  and  magnitude.  It  is  only  that  kind  of  taint- 
ness,  which  has  been  usually  found  indicative,  or  significa- 
tive of  great  distance  and  magnitude.  When,  for  instance, 
we  view  from  a  distance,  mountains,  forests,  or  any  large 
objects,  the  rays  of  light  being  intercepted  in  their  passage 
to  us,  give  to  them  that  dim  and  faint  appearance,  which 
suggests  the  idea  of  great  remoteness  and  dimensions.  But 
this  is  not  the  case  in  all  kinds  of  faintness.  The  moon,  when 
seen  in  the  day-time,  when  her  light  fades  before  the  sun, 
sheds  but  a  dim  light  indeed,  but  it  is  not  that  kind  of  dim- 
ness, which  we  have  been  accustomed  to  contemplate  as  the 
sign  of  distance.  The  same  answer  may  be  given  to  many 
other  appearances,  that  seem  to  contradict  this  system.  As 
for  example,  if  it  be  asked  why  does  not  the  sun,  when  be- 
held through  a  darkened  glass,  or  on  one  of  our  Indian  sum- 
mer-days, when  he  is  enveloped  in  smoke  and  darkened,  ap- 
pear much  larger  at  such  times,  as  he  is  more  faint,  and  may 
be  contemplated  on  such  occasions  with  the  naked  eye?  The 
answer  is,  that  these  are  not  those  faint  appearances,  which 
are  significative  of  great  distances  and  magnitudes,  and 
therefore,  no  more  convey  such  conceptions  to  the  mind, 
than  mere  arbitrary  sounds,  which  have  not  been  agreed 
upon  by  mankind,  as  signs  of  ideas,  could  awake  those  per- 
ceptions in  them. 

The  two  next  objections  of  Dr.  Smith,  admit  of  a  similar 
explanation.  2dly.  "  I  observe,"  says  he,  "  that  the  hori- 
zontal moon,  being  much  fainter  than  the  horizontal  sun, 
viewed  by  the  naked  eye,  should,  in  consequence  of  that 
principle,  appear  much  larger  than  the  horizontal  sun."  This 
consequence  does  not  rest  upon  sufficient  ground,  because 
greater  degrees  of  faintness,  are  not  always  so  good  signs  of 
distance  as  less  degrees.  A  man  seen  through  the  dim 
lights  of  a  city,  does  not  appear  larger  than  he  is,  but  seen 
through  a  thick  fog  he  does. 


430  Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses. 

3dly.  "  I  observe,"  continues  Dr.  Smith,  "  that  the  moon 
when  totally  eclipsed,  appears  much  fainter  than  she  does 
at  the  same  elevation,  when  not  eclipsed;  but  does  not  ap- 
pear larger  than  usual."  We  have  already  furnished  the  an- 
swer to  this  objection. 

Upon  the  whole,  we  are  inclined  to  think,  that  the  in- 
creased dimensions  in  the  disk  of  the  horizontal  moon  and 
sun,  is  to  be  accounted  for,  only  by  having  recourse  to  the 
causes  assigned  both  by  Dr.  Smith  and  Bishop  Berkeley. 
Neither  of  the  causes  separately  serves  to  explain  all  the 
phenomena,  and  it  appears  indispensably  necessary  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  that  they  both  should  conspire  in  pro- 
ducing the  results.  The  sun  and  moon,  we  are  sure,  move 
apparently  in  that  concavity  of  the  sky  above  us  which  is 
flatted,  and  the  parts  of  which,  that  rest  upon  the  limb  of 
the  horizon,  evidently  seem  more  remote  than  those  which 
are  above  our  heads.  While  their  real  dimensions,  there- 
fore, remain  the  same,  they  are  perceived  at  one  time  to  be 
more  remote  than  at  another.  In  such  case,  from  the  known 
laws  that  influence  the  fallacies  of  vision,  they  must  appear 
larger  when  resting  upon  the  horizon.  But  this  cause  does 
not  serve  to  explain  all  the  phenomena,  and  the  principle  of 
Bishop  Berkeley,  must  undoubtedly  have  its  influence  also 
in  producing  those  effects.  We  know  that  when  objects  are 
seen  at  a  distance,  the  rays  of  light  proceeding  from  them 
are  dispersed  on  their  passage,  and  many  of  them  never 
reach  the  eye.  This  gives  to  such  objects  a  peculiar  appear- 
ance of  dimness  and  faintness.  This  appearance,  therefore, 
becomes  to  us  the  sign  of  distance  and  magnitude.  Now  the 
sun  and  moon  are  large  objects,  which  as  they  approach  the 
horizon  have  to  shoot  their  rays,  before  they  reach  our  eyes, 
through  a  larger  tract  of  atmosphere,  and  atmosphere  more 
dense  from  its  immediate  vicinity  to  the  earth.  Under  these 
circumstances,  we  know  that  these  objects  must  always  ap- 


Of  Deceptions  of  the  Senses,  43 1 

pear  larger,  although  it  is  admitted,  at  the  same  time,  that 
the  image  upon  the  retina  of  the  rising  and  setting  sun  and 
moon,  are  not  increased  in  magnitude;  and  moreover,  that 
according  to  the  usual  laws  by  which  light  is  refracted  and 
reflected,  their  image  upon  the  retina,  formed  by  rays,  pas- 
sing through  a  denser  medium,  instead  of  being  larger,  must 
really  be  diminished. 


^ 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mind,  in  the  Acquisition  of 
Ideas. 

At  what  time  the  foetus  in  the  womb  of  its  mother  begins 
to  think,  and  when  the  soul  is  united  to  the  body,  are  ques- 
tions which  it  is  probable,  the  human  understanding  will 
never  be  able  to  determine.  That  at  a  very  early  period  it 
begins  to  perceive,  and  becomes  sensible  of  pain  and  plea- 
sure, appears  to  be  sufficiently  proved  from  the  fact  of  its 
frequent  movements.  From  its  intimate  connexion  with  the 
mother,  its  deriving  all  its  nutriinent  from  her,  and  the  cir- 
culation of  the  same  fluids  through  them  both,  it  would  ap- 
pear to  be  scarcely  subject  to  doubt,  that  it  sympathises  in 
all  her  emotions,  is  pained  with  her  sorrows,  and  affect- 
ed with  pleasurable  sensations  when  she  is  delighted.  All 
these  matters,  however,  are  subjects  not  of  science  or  know- 
ledge, but  of  speculation  and  conjecture.  We  have  no  facts  ^ 
upon  which  to  build  certain  conclusions.  Many  marvellous 
stories  are  upon  record  of  the  effects  produced  upon  the  bo- 
dy of  infants,  by  the  imagination  and  emotions  of  mothers 
during  a  state  of  pregnancy;  but  all  such  accounts  are  to  be 
regarded  by  us,  with  a  philosophical  incredulity.  Two  of 
the  most  remarkable  and  best  authenticated  facts  of  this  kind, 
which  I  ever  remember  to  have  read,  are  related  by  Malle- 
branche  in  his  Search  of  Ti  uth.  He  informs  us,  that  there 
was  to  be  seen  in  Paris,  at  the  Hospital  of  incurables,  a  young 
m^n,  an  idiot,  whose  bones  were-  all  I  roken,  or  exhibited  the 
appearance  of  having  been  broken,  like  those  of  a  criminal 

3  I 


434  Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mind, 

put  to  death  upon  the  rack;  and  that  this  effect  was  general- 
ly ascribed  to  the  circumstance,  that  his  mother,  while  big 
with  him,  had  witnessed  the  execution  of  a  criminal,  who 
was  put  to  death  by  that  species  of  torture.  He  further  in- 
forms us,  that  this  younp^  man  lived  to  the  age  of  twenty 
years,  and  was  visited  by  the  queen,  and  a  great  number  of 
other  persons,  who  could  testify  as  to  the  truth  of  the  facts 
which  he  records.  The  second  instance  mentioned,  is  that 
of  a  mother  in  a  similar  condition,  who  in  celebrating  the 
festival  of  the  canonization  of  a  Pope,  was  more  than  usu- 
ally devout,  keeping  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  picture  of  the 
Pope  which  was  hung  up  in  the  church;  the  consequence  of 
which  was,  that  upon  the  birth  of  her  infant,  it  was  found 
to  exhibit  a  resemblance  of  the  pontiff",  having  the  visage  of 
an  old  man,  as  far  as  a  child  could  appear  so  without  a 
beard,  his  arms  crossed  upon  his  breast,  his  eyes  turned  up 
towards  heaven,  and  displaying  at  the  same  time  the  appear- 
ance of  a  mitre,  and  even  of  the  precious  stones  with  which 
the  mitres  of  the  popes  are  usually  ornamented.  Malle- 
branche  ascribes  all  these  results  to  the  power  of  the  mo- 
ther's imagination,  and  endeavours  to  illustratt  the  manner 
in  which  they  might  be  produced,  by  the  operation  of  the 
animal  spirits  in  the  human  system,  the  hypothesis  by  which 
at  this  period  of  science,  many  of  the  phenomena  of  the 
mind  were  attempted  to  be  solved.  For  example,  he  alleges, 
that  when  the  mother  saw  the  criminal  put  to  the  rack,  and 
his  limbs  successively  broken  upon  the  wheel,  from  the 
force  of  sympathy,  the  animal  spirits  would  rush  to  a  part 
of  her  body,  which  corresponded  to  the  injured  parts  of  the 
criminal,  and  occasion  her  to  feel  pain  in  it.  Now  from  the 
intimate  connection  between  the  foetus  in  the  womb,  and  the 
mother,  a  like  operation  of  the  animal  spirits  in  it  would  oc- 
casion a  like  sensation,  and  its  little  limbs,  not  having  as  yet 
acquired  a  hardness  and  consistence,  sufficient  to  enable  it  to 
resist  the  impression,  as  in  the  case  of  the  mother,  would  be 


In  the  Acquisition  fff  Ideas.  435 

broken  by  the  shock.     The  same  explanation  is  given  of  the 
second  instance  mentioned  above. 

Notwithstanding  the  learned  solution  of  this  venerable 
Father,  and  that  he  tells  us  in  both  cases  the  facts  were  suf- 
ficiently attested  by  many  witnesses,  all  of  whom,  no  doubt, 
agreed  in  believing  that  there  was  a  real  and  striking  simili- 
tude between  the  objects  here  compared,  and  that  these  si- 
militudes were  to  be  traced  only  to  the  cause  assigned,  we 
must  be  allowed  to  lend  to  all  stories  of  this  nature  a  very 
unwilling  ear,  and  to  yield  them  an  academic  faith.  There 
is  no  ground  for  denying  that  in  both  the  cases  recited,  the 
children  were  really  exhibited,  and  were  thought  to  bear  a 
resemblance  to  the  objects  abovementioned;  but  upon  no  just 
principles  of  science  can  we  find  any  ground  for  concluding, 
that  these  effects  were  produced  by  the  cause  to  which  they 
are  referred.  We  discover  no  caprice  or  freaks  in  the  works 
of  nature.  All  the  appearances  she  displays  are  the  results 
of  established  principles  or  causes  which  operate  by  steady 
and  uniform  laws.  Monsters,  it  is  true,  are  sometimes  pro- 
duced by  a  departure  from  those  uniform  and  established 
laws.  What  occasions  nature  in  such  instances,  to  depart 
from  her  usual  course,  and  to  flow  in  unaccustomed  chan- 
nels, philosophy  is  unable  to  explain.  But  least  of  all  should 
we  expect  to  find  the  cause  of  these  phenomena  in  one  of  the 
constituent  and  most  important  principles  of  our  nature,  the 
imagination  of  the  mother,  a  principle,  which,  if  it  act  in  this 
way  at  all,  ought  to  be  considered  as  acting  uniformly  and 
invariably  to  produce  similar  results;  and  then,  instead  of 
having  a  few  cases  of  this  kind  during  the  lapse  of  ages,  such 
monsters  should  become  common,  and  man  should  appear  to 
us,  not  with  hi?  present  uniformity  of  proportions  amidst 
such  endless  variety;  but  in  every  fantastic  shape  imaginable. 
Upon  this  principle,  ought  not  every  woman  who  in  a  state 
of  pregnancy,  witnesses  the  execution  of  a  criminal  upon  the 
gallows,  to  have  a  child  born  with  its  neck  injured  or  broken? 


43§  Of  the  Progress  of  the  32ind, 

Should  we  not  find  a  large  portion  of  our  race  deformed? 
Besi^Jf^s  there  is  no  necessity  for  having  recourse  to  such  a 
solution  in  order  to  account  for  the  fact  of  unusual  births. 
They  are  to  be  referred  to  the  anomalous  productions  of  na- 
ture. We  cannot  explain  the  manner  in  which  the  fcetus  in 
the  womb,  grows  into  ihe  regular  form  of  the  human  species; 
and  why  should  we  expect  to  explain  the  manner  in  which  it 
grows  into  the  irregular  and  distortedi"  But  upon  a  sober 
view  of  the  subject,  can  it  b^  considered  in  any  degree  won- 
derful, that  amidst  the  thousands  and  millions  of  births  which 
take  place  upon  the  globe,  a  cb.ild  should  have  been  born  in 
Paris,  whose  limbs  all  exhibited  the  appearance  of  having 
been  broken,  and  that  by  a  singular  contingency,  that  child's 
mother  should  have  seen  the  execution  of  a  criminal  upon 
the  rack?  Such  contingencies  in  other  matters  are  not  un- 
common, and  excite  no  surprise.  Besides,  I  am  confident, 
that  to  those  who  will  take  the  pains  to  examine  minutely, 
the  similitude  between  children  of  whom  such  reports  are 
circulated  among  the  vulgar,  and  the  objects  to  which  they 
are  compared,  it  will  appear  to  be  very  remote  and  scarcely 
perceptible.  It  is  usually  the  imagination  of  the  spectator, 
which,  at  first,  conceives  a  resemblance,  and  then  fills  up  the 
outlines.  The  force  of  fancy  in  such  cases  is  immense.  I 
remember  myself  to  have  seen  in  the  state  of  North  Caroli- 
na, a  young  woman  of  a  singular  appearance,  and  very  de- 
fective in  understanding,  whose  face  was  vulgarly  said  to  re- 
semlile  a  sturgeon's,  and  that  resemblance  was  ascribed  to 
the  effect  produced  upon  her  mother  by  a  fright  into  which 
she  was  thrown  in  crossing  a  river,  when  a  fish  of  that  spe- 
cies leaped  suddenly  into  the  boat.  I  could  not  trace  the 
smallest  resemblance  between  the  young  woman  and  the  fish, 
which  was  so  generally  perceptible,  and  should  never  have 
thought  of  such  a  thing,  had  it  not  been  suggested  by  others. 
Facts  of  the  kind  above  referred  to,  are  to  be  accounted 
for  upon  principles  similar  to  those  upon  which  we  explain 


In  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas.  43/ 

the  phenomena  of  dreaming,  and  their  interpretations.  Is  it 
in  any  degree  remarkable,  that  amidst  the  endless  succession 
of  thoughts  which  occur  to  the  mind  in  dreams,  where  the 
most  variegated  scenes  are  displayed  to  the  fancy,  webs  of 
every  hue  are  woven  by  it,  and  where  we  seem  to  pass 
through  all  sorts,  and  conditions  of  being,  sometimes  retra- 
cing the  past,  and  then  anticipating  the  future,  there  should 
be  some  things  represented  to  us  which  bear  a  resemblance 
or  analogy  to  what  afterwards  takes  place  in  reality?  The 
symbols  too,  or  hieroglyphics,  which  are  supposed  to  adum- 
brate the  scenes  of  real  life,  are  of  so  ambiguous  and  doubt- 
ful interpretation,  that  like  the  responses  of  the  ancient  ora- 
cles, they  may  be  made  to  signify  very  different  and  even 
opposite  things.  It  will  be  excused  in  the  poet  with  the  li- 
cense of  his  profession,  to  represent  dreams  as  coming  down 
from  heaven;  but  in  the  sober  inquiries  of  the  philosopher, 
no  impressions  can  be  found  upon  them  which  bear  its  sa- 
cred image  and  superscription.  It  would  be  strange,  in- 
deed, if  the  Creator  had  resorted  to  this  fantastic  mode  of 
communicating  to  us  information,  which  we  are  unable  to 
obtain,  in  our  waking  hours,  by  the  severest  application  of 
mind  and  the  most  persevering  habits  of  investigation. 

All  that  idle  confidence,  therefore,  in  dreams  by  which 
the  peace  of  some  persons  is,  in  no  slight  degree  disturbed,  or 
in  the  power  ot  the  mother's  imagination  to  produce  such 
great  effects  in  the  form  of  the  child,  is  to  be  regarded  as 
childish  superstition,  from  which  philosophy  should  cleanse 
the  soul. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Progress  of  the  Mind,  in  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas, 
Continued. 

Perceptivity,  or  the  power  of  perceivirg,  seems  to  be 
the  distinguishing  property,  that  separates  animate  from  in- 
animate nature.  The  perceptive  powers,  however,  of  the 
different  species  of  animals  differ  greatly  in  their  degree  of  de- 
licacy and  refinement.  Those  substances  and  qualities  which 
are,  in  a  high  degree,  agreeable  to  some  animals,  are  extreme- 
ly offensive  to  others.  The  line  of  separation  between  the  ve- 
getable and  animal  kingdom  is  not  always  distinctly  marked. 
The  lowest  link  of  animated  nature,  as  the  cockle  and  the 
oyster,  partake  so  nearly  equally  of  the  properties  of  the  ani- 
mal and  the  vegetable,  that  it  is  difficult  to  decide  under 
which  denomination  they  should  be  classed.  Of  all  animals, 
man,  undoubtedly,  is  susceptible  of  the  greatest  variety,  of 
the  nicest  and  most  delicate  perceptions.  Brutes  appear  to 
be  entirely  incapable  of  reflecting  upon  the  operations  of  the 
principle  within  them,  and  those  bodily  sensations  to  .which 
all  their  knowledge  is  confined,  are  of  the  coarsest  and  gros- 
sest kind.  Let  us  now  pursue  our  primitive  man,  in  the  pro- 
secution of  that  knowledge  which  his  limited  faculties  enable 
him  to  attain. 

By  sensation  and  reflection  we  have  seen  him  attain  all  his 
simple  ideas,  about  the  existence  and  qualities  of  body  and 
mind.  Some  ideas  he  would  obtain  by  one  sense  only,  others 
by  several  senses;  some  by  reflection  or  sensation  only,  and 
others  by  both  sensation  and  reflection.  Light,  and  the  se- 
veral colours,  as  white,  red,  yellow,  green,  blue,  with  their 


440  Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mind, 

several  shades  and  modifications,  come  into  the  mind  by 
sight  alone;  sounds  and  tones,  only  by  the  ear;  the  several 
tastes  and  smells,  only  by  the  palate  and  nose.  The  ideas 
of  space,  extension,  solidity,  resistance,  hardness,  impulse, 
impenetrability,  we  get  originally  by  touch,  as  soon  as  we 
press  our  hands  upon  bodies,  and  find  that  they  resist  them; 
although  afterwards  we  learn  to  judge  of  some  of  them  by 
the  other  senses,  as  by  the  eye  and  ear.  By  reflection 
alone  do  we  obtain  our  simple  ideas  of  duration  and  succes- 
sion, perception  or  thinking,  volition  or  willing,  with  their 
several  simple  modes,  as  remembrance,  discerning  or  discri- 
mination, imagining,  reasoning,  judging,  knowledge,  faith, 
doubting,  &c.  The  ideas  of  pleasure,  pain,  delight,  torment, 
power,  existence,  unitv,  and  number,  come  both  by  sensation 
and  reflection.  Positive  ideas  too  mav  be  derived  from  pri- 
vative causes,  as  the  rays  of  light  strike  upon  the  eye  and 
give  us  a  perception  of  light,  the  absence  of  those  rays  oc- 
casion a  new  affection  of  the  organs  and  gives  us  a  notion  of 
darkness.  So  the  absence  of  heat  gives  us  a  sensation  of 
cold,  the  absence  of  whiteness,  the  sensation  of  black,  that 
of  taste,  insipidity,  of  noise,  silence,  the  absence  of  some- 
thing of  which  we  have  a  complex  idea,  a  notion  of  nothing. 
By  reflecting  upon  the  train  of  ideas  as  they  pass  and  repass 
through  the  mind,  we  obtain  our  notions  of  succession  and 
duration;  by  comparing  objects  with  themselves  as  they  ap- 
pear at  diff"erent  times,  we  get  ideas  f)f  identity  and  diversity; 
by  comparing  different  objects  with  each  other,  our  ideas  of 
equality  and  inequality,  relation,  similitude  and  dissimili- 
tude; and  by  witnessing  objects  produce  changes  or  altera- 
tions in  each  other,  we  obtain  our  ideas  of  power. 

After  having  obtained  its  simple  ideas  by  external  and  in- 
ternal perception,  the  mind  proceeds  to  the  exercise  of  its 
several  powers,  to  form  its  simple  ideas  into  complex  com- 
binations, to  enlarge,  compound  and  diversify  them  at  its 
pleasure.  By  the  power  of  thinking,  our  primitive  man,  finds 


In  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas.  441 

himself  continually  occupied  during  his  waking  hours,  by  the 
power  of  discernment  or  discrimination,  he  learns  to  distin- 
guish his  several  perceptions  from  each  other,  by  that  of 
contemplation  he  fixes  his  mind  upon  a  train  of  thoughts 
which  he  feels  himself  inclined  to  indulge  for  the  time.  To 
his  surprise  and  astonishment  he  soon  finds  phenomena  of  his 
mind  exhibited  altogether  incomprehensible.  By  an  act  of  his 
will,  he  can  fasten  the  view  of  his  mind  upon  a  single  point 
which  he  wishes  to  consider,  so  as  to  investigate  it  on  all 
sides,  and  this  is  called  the  act  of  attention,  intension  or  stu- 
dy, according  to  the  intensity  M'ith  which  he  applies  the 
mind  to  the  matter  in  hand.  If  he  becomes  inattentive  to 
every  idea  passing  through  his  mind,  and  every  object  with- 
out, he  falls  into  a  reverie.  He  soon  discovers  in  himself  the 
unexpected  power  of  renewing  the  information  he  had  be- 
fore obtained,  or  reviving  ideas  he  had  previously  acquired, 
but  which  appeared  to  have  been  entirely  obliterated  and  lost: 
and  this  is  called  memory;  which  power  is  exerted  in  two 
very  distinct  methods;  in  simply  retracing  those  trains  of 
past  thought,  that  involuntarily  upon  our  part  spring  up  in 
the  mind,  which  is  simple  remembrance;  or  voluntarily  ex- 
erting the  powers  of  the  understanding,  in  bringing  again  to 
our  view  something  that  it  is  difficult  to  recall,  and  this  is 
denominated  recollection  or  reminiscense.  Imagination  is 
that  faculty  of  the  understanding  by  which  we  collect  ideas 
which  we  have  previously  received,  and  join  them  together 
at  our  pleasure,  so  as  to  frame  pictures  or  representations 
cut  of  them.  By  composition,  we  enlarge  and  compound 
our  ideas,  by  abstraction  we  obtain  general  notions,  by  the 
power  of  comparison  our  numerous  ideas  of  relations,  and  by 
association  we  connect  together  perceptions,  which  we  have 
been  in  the  habit  of  receiving  in  conjunction.  Judgment  gives 
us  a  good  insight  into  truth  and  nature;  reason  transports  us 
from  truths  which  are  known  to  those  which  are  unknown, 
and  by  the  will  we  determine  to  act  or  not  act  according  to 

3  K 


442  Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mtnd^  ^c. 

our  choice;  while  motivitv  or  the  power  of  acting  enables  us 
to  extcute  our  dctermii  ations.  Our  irihtincts,  pro|'ensities,  af- 
fections antl  passions,  our  social  powers  and  moral  senti- 
ments likivvise  propel  us  to  action. 

Ol  each  of  these  p(!wcrs  of  the  mind  we  shall  treat  in  due 
order,  descanting  upon  the  I'henomena  whi(  h  are  exhibited 
by  them,  and,  at  the  same  time,  endeavouring  to  explain 
upon  tlie  principles  of  philosophy  some  singular  and  anoma- 
lous facts. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Tlie  same  Subject  Continued, 


The  first  act  which  the  mind  exercises  is  thinking  in  ge- 
neral, under  which  head  are  included,  as  modes  of  thinking, 
perception,  iaiagination,  memory,  reason,  &c.  Two  of  the 
peculiar  doctrines  of  Des  Cartes  appear  to  have  been  that 
the  essence  of  matter  is  extension,  and  the  essence  of  mind 
is  thoup;ht.  Neither  of  these  doctrines  is  well-founded.  We 
all  perceive  a  diflference  between  our  idea  of  extension  and 
of  that  thing  or  substance,  which  fills  space  and  is  extended; 
and  between  thought,  which  is  an  act  of  the  soul^^and  that 
thing  which  thinks.  "  If  thought  were  the  essence  of  the 
soul,"  says  Mr.  Locke,  "  then,  there  could  be  none  of  that 
intension  or  remission  in  thought,  of  which  we  find  ourselves 
capable;  as  when  we  apply  our  minds  to  any  subjects  with 
more  or  less  close  attention.  Novv,  if  thought  were  the  es- 
sence and  not  the  operation  of  the  soul,  no  such  variation  in 
thinking  couid  take  place,  since  the  essence  of  any  thing  re- 
mains >iways  unvaried.  Tliis  subject,  however,  is  ultimate- 
ly connected  with  another  of  much  more  difficult  solution  to 
the  phdosopher,  viz.  does  the  boul  or  mind  always  think,  or 
is  it  sometimes  inactive  and  quiescent?  It  is  impossible  for 
the  human  mind,  definitively  to  determine  whether  that  which 
is  extended,  maj  not  by  omnipotence  be  made  to  think,  or 
whether  that  which  is  untxteiMed  must  always  think.  In 
solving  the  question,  therelore,  does  the  soul  always  andne- 


444  Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mind^ 

cessarlly  think,  we  must  be  guided  solely  by  the  phenomena- 
Now  the  appearances  of  nature  are  strangely  calculated  to 
mislead  us,  if  the  soul  always  thinks,  or  what  is  probably,  a 
more  accurate  statement  of  the  question,  if  the  man  always 
thinks. 

If  we  trace  man  to  his  origin  in  the  womb  of  his  mother, 
we  shall  find  strong  reason  to  conclude  that  he  does  not  al- 
ways think.  The  doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  being  contradict- 
ed by  all  the  phenomena  exhibited  by  our  race  in  a  state  of 
infancy,  is  now  considered  as  exploded  from  philosophy. 
Now  we  know  not  the  precise  time  in  which  the  soul  is  uni- 
ted to  the  body,  while  the  foetus  is  in  the  womb  of  its  mo- 
ther, but  we  are  sure  that  at  some  period  between  the  time 
in  which  its  formation  commences,  and  that  of  its  birth,  the 
Almighty,  besides  breathing  into  it  the  breath  of  life,  must 
also  transfuse  into  it  a  living  soul,  a  principle  of  intelligence. 
In  what  state,  then,  can  we  conceive  this  soul  or  principle  of 
intelligence  to  be?  Can  it  be  thinking  at  the  time  of  its  union 
with  the  body?  But  about  what  can  it  be  supposed  to  be 
thinking?  Can  it  be  thinking  before  it  has  acquired  ideas? 
The  only  ideas  we  can  conceive  it  to  acquire  even  in  the 
womb,  are  those  of  warmth,  hunger  and  thirst,  or  perhaps, 
some  dim  perceptions  of  pain  and  pleasure,  according  to  the 
condition  in  which  it  subsists  there.  Children  which  perish 
in  the  womb  after  they  are  completely  formed,  may,  without 
any  great  stretch  of  fancy,  be  supposed  to  suffer  pains,  and 
perhaps  severe  ones,  before  their  dissolution.  These,  then, 
are  all  the  perceptions  which  the  soul  can  be  conceived  to 
receive  in  the  embryon  state  of  man.  We  see  that  as  yet 
there  is  no  reason  to  conclude  that  he  has  more  than  a  very 
few  perceptions  to  occupy  his  mind.  And  the  state  in  which 
the  infant  continues  for  some  time  after  its  birth,  being  ?leepy, 
torpid,  and  inactive,  affords  no  indication  that  its  mind  had 
been  previously  much  excited  by  thinking.  The  first  phe- 
nomena, therefore,  exhibited  by  our  race  in  a  state  of  in- 


In  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas,  445 

fancy,  seem  strongly  to  lead  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  mind 
at  its  conjunction  with  the  body,  is  not  a  thinking  substance, 
but  a  substance  capable  of  thought,  imagination,  reasoning, 
&c.  and  has  its  powers  first  excited  into  action,  after  its  in- 
fusion into  our  corporeal  system.  We  are  apt  to  impose 
upon  our  understandings  on  this  subject  by  terms  that  con- 
vey no  distinct  ideas,  and  to  imagine  that  an  unex tended  sub- 
stance, which  does  not  think,  must  be  nothing.  But  does  not 
the  difficulty  here  consist  in  conceiving  of  an  unextended 
substance  at  all,  or  a  substance  that  occupies  no  part  of  space? 
Is  there  any  greater  difficulty  in  conceiving  of  an  unextended 
substance  possessing  only  the  power  of  thinking,  than  in 
conceiving  of  an  unextended  substance  which  thinks?  I  pre- 
sume not. 

The  next  consideration  which  should  lead  to  the  conclu- 
sion, that  thought  is  in  some  cases  suspended,  is,  that  there 
are  so  many  instances  within  our  experience,  in  which  all 
consciousness  of  thinking  is  lost.  When  we  are  in  pro- 
found and  undisturbed  sleep,  in  cases  of  swooning,  a  deli- 
quium,  and  in  drowning,  when  life  is  not  taken  away,  but 
only  suspended  for  a  time,  as  appears  from  the  reports  of 
those  who  have  experienced  these  changes,  we  are  totally 
unconscious  of  having  performed  a  single  act  of  thinking. 
There  is  a  case  mentioned  by  Dr.  Beattie  of  a  man,  who 
fell  into  a  deliquium  while  giving  an  order  to  a  servant,  and 
who  after  lying  in  that  singular  condition,  in  which  all  the 
functions  of  body  and  mind  seem  to  be  intermitted,  for  six 
weeks,  suddenly  recovered  the  use  of  his  faculties,  and  ask- 
ed the  servant  whether  he  had  executed  his  order,  as  if  it 
had  but  that  moment  been  delivered.  Those  who  are 
drowned,  and  afterwards  resuscitated,  have  no  recollection 
of  any  thing  but  of  the  pains  which  they  sustained  in  this 
mode  of  death;  and  of  the  still  more  distressing  pains  of 
their  revival.  But  to  descend  to  facts  within  the  reach  of 
every  one's  experience  and  observation,  does  not  the  mo- 


446  Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mind, 

ment  in  which  we  fall  into  a  deep  sleep,  and  that  in  which 
we  awake  out  of  it  uniformly  seem  to  touch  each  other?  In 
such  cases  we  have  not  the  smallest  or  most  dim  perc»;ption 
of  the  progress  of  time,  or  of  an\  thoughts  that  passed 
through  our  minds  in  the  interval.  Now,  surely,  upon  the 
soundest  principles  of  philosophy  we  have  reason  to  con- 
clude, that  we  could  not  spend  so  large  a  portion  of  our 
time  in  thinking  without  having  some  consciousness  of  it. 
Mr.  Lojcke  alludes  to  the  case  of  a  young  man  who  lived  to 
the  age  of  twenty-five,  or  twt-nty-six  years,  without  having 
experienced  what  it  was  to  dream,  and  was  then  only  made 
acquainted  with  that  operation  of  the  mind  by  a  fever  from 
which  he  was  then  newly  recovered.  Now,  is  it  to  be  con- 
ceived that  this  young  man  could  have  spent  one  third  of 
his  time  in  thinking,  which  is  the  period  usually  devoted  to 
sleep,  without  having  been  conscious  of  it  in  any  single  in- 
stance? 

From  consciousness  we  derive  our  proof  that  at  anv  given 
time  we  are  thinking  or  have  ever  thought;  and  were  we 
destitute  of  this  consciousness,  we  could  never  have  suffi- 
cient evidence  to  convince  us  that  we  think. 

Now  in  instances  of  sound  sleep,  of  swooning,  of  a  de- 
liquium  of  suspended  animation  by  drowning,  we  want  this 
consciousness,  and,  of  course,  all  evidence  ^hat  we  were 
thinking:  how,  then,  are  we  to  be  convinced  that  we  were 
still  engaged  in  thought?  When  all  those  indications,  by 
which  a  state  of  thought  is  discovered  to  ourselves  or 
others,  have  ceased  to  be  exhibited,  what  ground  have  we 
for  concluding  that  we  still  continue  to  think?  Look  at  a 
man  wrapt  in  profound  sleep.  Do  we  discern  in  his  appear- 
ance any  of  the  signs  or  symptoms  that  denote  a  state  of 
thinking?  In  that  singular  and  extraordinary  condition  of 
being,  making  so  near  an  approach  to  death,  all  the  func- 
tions of  body  and  mind,  except  those  which  are  indispensa- 
ble to  life,  appear  for  a  time  suspended.    The  eye  is  closed, 


In  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas,  44f 

the  respiration  is  difficult,  the  whole  countenance  fallen  and 
changed,  vohmtary  motion  is  discontinued,  the  spirit  that 
once  actuated  and  enlivened  the  features  and  all  the  organs 
of  the  body  seems  to  have  retreated  to  its  citad  1  to  enjoy  a 
season  of  repose.  There  is  not  one  indication  that  a  single 
thought  passes  through  the  mind;  the  sleeper  seems  to  be 
a  different  being  from  the  man,  and  when  he  is  suddenly 
aroused  from  sleep,  he  seems  to  have  arisen  to  new  life  and 
perception,  and  unless  he  has  been  disturbed  by  dreams,  to 
have  commenced  his  existence  anew.  Could  the  phenome- 
na presented  to  our  view  in  any  way  more  strongly  indicate 
the  total  suspension  of  thought?  It  is  incumbent  upon  those 
who  deny  that  the  soul  ever  ceases  to  think,  to  prove  that 
proposition  by  satisfactory  arguments.  As  all  the  appearan- 
ces of  nature  are  so  decidedly  unfavourable  to  their  doctrine, 
the  burthen  of  proof  in  this  case  lies  upon  them.  Scarcely 
is  there  a  man  in  the  world,  who,  if  left  to  the  unbiassed  sug- 
gestions of  his  own  mind  and  is  untutored  in  the  dogmas 
and  language  of  the  schools,  would  not  decide  that  in  sleep 
we  cease  to  think.  It  is  the  wisdom  of  science  to  pay  great 
respect  in  such  cases  to  the  unadulterated  sentiments  and 
original  impressions  of  nature. 

In  the  next  place,  those  operations  of  the  mind,  or  modes 
of  thinking  which  are  the  most  familiar,  constant,  and  inva- 
riable, cease  in  sleep,  and  this  furnishes  us  v/ith  an  additional 
proof  that  all  other  acts  are  intermitted  also.  We  know 
that  in  sleep,  both  internal  and  external  perceptions  cease. 
The  senses  are  all  sealed,  and  no  longer  convey  their  notices 
to  the  mind's  presence  chamber.  The  body  may  be  moved  from 
place  to  place,  the  nose  regaled  with  effluvia,  and  the  ear  as- 
sailed by  the  loudest  noises,  and  yet  no  perceptions  are  oc- 
casioned in  the  mind.  Do  not  these  circumstances  show 
that  the  spirit  within  has  for  a  time  resigned  its  commission, 
and  along  with  the  body  is  enjoying  the  sweets  of  repose? 
Is  it  to  be  credited  that  the  soul  has  the  power  of  exercising 


448  Of  the  Progress  o^  the  M'tnd^ 

a  part  of  its  functions  whilst  the  rest  are  allowed  to  remain 
dormant;  to  reason,  conceive,  remember,  imagine,  while  in 
her  perceptions  she  is  torpid?  But  it  may  be  asked,  does 
not  this  take  place  in  dreams?  Are  not  the  powers  of  memo- 
ry and  imagination  frequently  employed  in  them  to  exhibit 
the  past  and  paint  scenes  that  appear  to  be  present,  while 
our  other  faculties  are  locked  up  in  sleep?  The  case  of 
dreams,  instead  of  impugning  the  truth  of  our  doctrine,  tends 
to  its  support  and  confirmation.  For  it  is  worthy  of  our  ob- 
servation that  as  soon  as  we  pass  from  sound  sleep  to  that 
singular  and  anomalous  condition  of  existence,  called  dream- 
ing, in  which  it  appears  that  our  powers  of  reason,  memory 
and  imagination,  are  very  imperfectly  exercised,  our  percep- 
tive powers  also  are  immediately  rendered  more  sensitive  or 
excitable.  We  are  much  more  easily  awakened  from  a  state 
of  dreaming  than  of  sound  sleep.  From  what  can  this  arise 
but  from  the  circumstance,  that  our  perceptive  faculties  are 
partially  excited  along  with  the  other  faculties  of  the  mind, 
and  perhaps  in  an  equal  degree  with  them? 

But  again,  it  may  be  said,  does  not  the  phenomenon  of 
dreaming  itself,  show  that  the  soul  is  always  thinking,  and 
that  our  dreams  are  nothing  more  than  those  sleeping 
thoughts,  which  because  of  their  importance  make  a  deeper 
impression,  and  are  retained  by  the  memory?  I  think  that 
we  shall  readily  be  convinced  that  this  theory  is  not  well 
founded  if  we  will  attend  to  the  following  considerations. 

We  are  all  conscious  of  the  transition  from  a  state  of 
sound  sleep  to  that  of  dreaming,  and  that  the  latter  is  not 
the  natural  but  disordered  state  of  the  mind  during  rest. 
If  wx  are  always  thinking  and  recollect  only  important  mat- 
ters, how  happens  it  that  we  dream  less  in  sound  health  than 
in  sickness?  Do  crudities  and  indigestion  produce  in  the 
mind  more  interesting  trains  of  thought  than  a  healthful 
performance  of  the  functions  of  the  body?  Are  men  in  per- 
fect health,  less    likely  to  have  important  conceptions  in 


In  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas.  449 

sleep,  than  the  nervous,  the  delicate,  and  distempered?  It 
is  evident,  therefore,  that  dreaming  is  a  state,  or  condition 
of  being,  sui  generis,  distinct  from  all  others,  and  not  mere- 
ly a  more  recollected  and  interested  attention  paid  to  the 
ideas  that  arc  perpetually  passing  through  the  mind  in 
sleep. 

Another  reason  which  induces  me  to  believe  that  the 
soul  does  not  always  think,  is,  that  a  total  suspension  of 
thought,  as  well  as  bodily  action,  would  seem  to  be  neces- 
sary to  that  repose  and  refreshment  which  nature  evidently 
intends  us  to  enjoy  in  sleep.  Even  that  incoherent  and 
imperfect  kind  of  thinking,  which  takes  place  in  dreams,  in- 
terrupts that  kind  repose  which  we  derive  from  tired 
nature's  sweet  restorer,  and  after  a  night  of  dreams  we 
awake  in  the  morning  much  less  refreshed  than  usual.  It 
seems  to  be  the  attribute  of  Him  only  who  never  slumbers  nor 
sleeps,  always  to  have  a  succession  of  ideas  passing  through 
his  mind,  or  rather  at  every  instant  to  have  all  ideas  and  all 
knowledge  immediately  present  to  his  view. 

Another  argument  in  favour  of  our  doctrine,  may  be  de- 
rived from  a  consideration  of  the  causes  that  usually  occa- 
sion sleep,  and  the  efforts  we  involuntarily  make  use  of  to 
retard  or  accelerate  its  approach. 

Animals  that  think  least  are  the  most  inclined  to  drowsi- 
ness. Savages  and  slaves,  who  have  the  fewest  ideas,  spend 
a  large  portion  of  their  time  in  dozing.  When  they  are  in- 
capable of  employing  their  minds  in  interestmg  reflections 
so  as  to  keep  their  eyes  open,  is  it  to  be  believed,  that  they 
fall  asleep  and  close  them,  that  they  may  learn  to  think?  In 
the  case  of  all  of  us,  when  we  become  drowsy,  are  we  not 
conscious  of  a  gradual  approximation  towards  a  total  sus- 
pension of  thought,  so  that  when  the  nod  is  produced  we 
feel  almost  sure  that  we  ceased  to  think?  When  we  have 
spent  the  evening  in  company  excited  by  lively  conversation 

and  a  great  variety  of  objects,  which  have  successively  en- 

3  I. 


450  Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mind^ 

m 

gaged  our  attention,  upon  our  return  to  our  chamber,  we 
often  find  it  difficult  to  compose  ourselves  to  rest.  What 
can  occasion  this  difficulty  but  the  rapid  flow  of  thoughts 
which  it  is  not  in  our  power  readily  to  check?  And  when 
we  set  ourselves  to  work  to  endeavour  to  promote  sleepi- 
ness, do  we  not  strive  to  banish  those  thoughts  that  intrude 
themselves,  and  engage,  and  agitate  us,  and  turn  our  at- 
tention to  others  less  calculated  to  excite  us?  Sometimes 
when  we  have  been  much  interested  in  reading  a  book,  or 
pursuing  a  subject  of  inquiry,  the  mind  becomes  so  occupied 
and  engrossed  by  it  that  sleep  is  driven  from  our  pillow;  and 
the  only  way  in  which  we  can  recall  it,  is  to  drive  those 
meditations  which  were  awakened,  from  our  minds.  In  all 
such  instances,  in  order  to  induce  sleep,  we  have  to  make  an 
exertion  to  cease  to  think. 

1  he  last  consideration  which  I  shall  suggest  as  leading  to 
the  conclusion,  that  the  soul  does  not  always  think,  is,  that  it 
would  be  inconsistent  with  the  usual  simplicity  and  frugality 
of  nature,  to  suppose  that  she  enables  us  to  exercise  a 
power  so  habitually  to  no  useful  purpose.  If  the  intellectu- 
al machine  within  us  is  kept  in  operation  during  sleep,  it  is 
certainly  labour  greatly  misapplied  and  lost.  No  one  ever 
yet  was  sensible  of  any  advantages  which  accrued  to  him 
from  any  thoughts  that  occurred  during  sleep.  When  were 
ever  any  plans  of  usefulness  at  such  times  projected,  which 
had  never  occurred  to  the  mind  belore,or  any  discoveries  in 
science  made?  "  Such  a  useless  operation,  as  that  of  our 
thinking  always  during  sleep  cannot  be  the  product  of  the  all- 
wise  Author  of  nature,  whose  ways  in  many  instances,  indeed, 
are  past  finding  out,  but  are  known  to  be  invariably  cha- 
racterised by  one  peculiar  circumstance,  that  he  does  no- 
thing in  vain. 

Upon  the  whole  it  may  be  asked,  how  can  we  conceive 
that  the  soul  should  ever  be  without  thought,  whose  great 
find  distinguishing  property  is  to  think?     Is  it  not  as  easy  to 


In  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas.  451 

conceive  of  matter  without  extension,  as  of  the  soul  without 
thinking?  In  regard  to  all  questions  of  this  kind,  we  must 
carefully  observe  that  it  is  not  by  the  conceptions  of  our 
limited  faculties,  that  the  works  of  an  infinite  Creator  are  to 
be  estimated.  If  the  phenomena  which  we  observe,  lead  us 
irri^sistibly  to  the  conclusion  that  the  thoughts  of  the  soul  are 
suspended  during  sleep,  and  in  some  other  states  and  con- 
ditions of  the  body,  it  forms  no  sufficient  objection  against 
the  doctrine,  that  it  is  inconceivable  to  us  in  what  manner 
the  soul  can  cease  to  think.  It  is  equally  inconceivable  to 
us  in  what  manner  the  soul  can  think  during  sleep,  or  how 
it  can  think  at  all,  or  perform  any  other  operation.  But 
while  it  remains  so  intimately  united  with  the  body,  and  is 
found  on  all  other  occasions  so  tenderly  to  sympathize  with 
it,  why  in  the  circumstance  of  taking  repose  only  should  it 
be  conceived  to  act  separately  and  independently  of  it?  If 
the  body  is  wounded,  the  soul  is  pained,  if  the  body  is  in 
health  the  soul  rejoices,  and  if  in  sickness,  the  soul  pines 
and  languishes.  Why  should  it  be  supposed  that  it  does 
not  also  partake  of  that  singular  state  of  existence  which 
takes  place  in  sleep? 

And,  in  fact,  without  entering  at  all  into  the  scheme  of 
materialism,  or  Hartley's  doctrine  of  vibrations,  and  vibra- 
tiuncles  or  minor  vibrations,  by  which  he  attempts  to  explain 
all  the  operations  of  the  human  mind,  but  which  is  subject 
to  the  misfortune,  that  there  is  not  one  solitary  fact  which 
can  be  exhibited  to  show  that  in  any  case  whatever  there  is 
any  vibration  in  the  nervous  system;  I  say,  without  entering 
at  all  into  the  scheme  of  materialism,  or  Hartley's  doctrine 
of  vibrations,  which  may  or  may  not  be  materialism;  may  we 
not  consider  ourselves  as  having  good  ground  to  conclude, 
that  in  every  case  in  which  there  is  performed  an  operation 
of  the  mind,  there  takes  place  at  the  same  time  a  corres- 
pondent operation  in  the  body?  In  our  present  state  of  ex- 
istence  we  find  the  mind  and  body,  so  intimately  blended 


452  Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mind, 

together,  that  as  far  as  our  knowledge  of  facts  extends,  we 
are  sure  that  no  changes  take  phice  in  the  one  which  do  not 
produce  a  kind  of  correlative  or  consentient  change  in  the 
other.  'J'he  soul,  although  not  of  the  same  substance  with 
matter  or  the  result  of  the  organization  of  its  parts,  seems 
always  to  make  use  of  matter  as  the  instrument  by  which  it 
performs  all  its  operations.  That  God  can,  and  does  in 
some  instances,  form  souls  which  are  capable  of  thinking  and 
acting  without  the  aid  or  cooperation  of  material  forms, 
seems  highly  probable  to  reason,  and  is  expressly  asserted 
by  revelation.  But  in  the  condition  in  which  the  human 
soul  finds  itself  in  this  life,  it  is  constrained  to  operate  with 
those  imperfect  instruments  with  which  it  is  furnished  in 
the  organs  of  the  human  hodv.  Without  the  eye  it  can  ob- 
tain no  notices  of  colour,  without  the  ear  of  sounds,  without 
touch  of  feeling,  and  so  of  the  other  senses.  That  is  to  say, 
it  is  by  some  unknown  and  inconceivable  alteration  pro- 
duced in  these  senses  by  their  several  objects,  that  percep- 
tions of  these  qualities  are  conveyed  to  the  mind.  When 
the  eye  inelts  with  tenderness  or  flashes  with  rage,  must 
there  not  be  some  strange  alteration  produced  in  the  fluids 
that  compose  that  organ  to  make  it  capable  of  such  various 
expressions?  The  sentiment  of  rage  not  only  exists  in  the 
mind,  but  there  is  a  correspondent  change  produced  in  the 
body  by  which  that  sentiment  is  displayed.  The  same  ob- 
servation will  apply  in  case  of  all  the  sentiments,  affections, 
or  passions,  which  are  exhibited  in  the  human  countenance. 
We  see  a  sword,  plunged  before  our  eyes,  into  the  bosom  of 
a  friend.  Should  we  not  feel  on  such  an  occasion,  a  pain  in 
the  heart,  or  in  that  part  of  our  body,  which  corresponds  to 
that  which  was  wounded  in  our  friend?  And,  setting  aside 
the  doctrine  of  animal  spirits,  by  which  such  phenomena 
were  formerly  explained,  how  could  this  pain  at  the  heart  be 
produced  but  by  some  action  in  that  part  of  the  body?  On 
the  other  hand,  let  a  wound  be  made  in  our  own  body,  or  the 


In  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas.  453 

gout  or  rheumatism  affect  us,  and  a  pain  is  immediately 
occasioned  in  the  mind.  From  these  known  facts,  together 
with  many  others  that  might  be  enumerated,  we  think  that 
there  is  good  ground  for  concluding,  that  as  on  the  one  hand 
there  is  no  operation  of  the  body  performed  without  a  cor- 
respondent operation  of  the  mind;  so  on  the  other,  there  is 
no  operation  of  the  mind,  without  a  correspondent  action 
upon  the  body.  All  the  operations  of  ihe  mind  are  perform- 
ed, as  we  have  reason  to  believe,  through  the  instrumentality 
of  the  corporeal  organs.  When  we  perceive,  therefore, 
when  we  remember,  when  we  imagine,  reason,  will  or  ac- 
complish voluntary  actions,  the  soul  must  attain  all  these 
ends,  during  its  present  intimate  incorporation  into  the  body, 
by  means  of  peculiar  actions  in  the  several  bodily  organs  ap- 
propriated to  those  purposes  by  the  infinite  wisdom  of  the 
Creator.  If  the  human  body  is  not  a  perceiving,  imagining 
and  reasoning  machine,  accomplishing  all  mental  operations 
by  its  own  actions,  as  the  materialists  will  have  it,  it  must 
be  admitted  to  be  a  machine  admirably  organized  to  become 
the  instrument  by  which  the  soul  effectuates  all  these  pur- 
poses. And  would  not  this  opinion  receive  additional  sup- 
port from  contemplating  the  nice  and  exquisite  construction 
of  its  parts?  What  an  array  of  materials  do  we  find  enter- 
ing into  its  composition,  what  delicacy  and  refinement,  are 
discovered  in  the  fabrication  of  those  materials  by  the  hea- 
venly Artist!  What  a  nice  and  exquisite  adjustment  of  the 
parts  to  each  other;  what  wonderful  operations  are  per- 
petually going  on  in  the  lungs,  the  heart,  the  blood  ves- 
sels, the  brain,  the  very  bones  themselves,  and  the  whole 
system!  Anatomists,  who  most  nicely  examine  the  human 
frame,  find  perpetually  new  wonders  rising  to  their  view,  and 
are  apt  to  embrace  the  doctrine  of  materialism  from  the  cir- 
cumstance that  they  find  no  great  difficulty  in  conceiving,  that 
a  structure  so  curiously  and  wonderfully  wrought,  may  be 
eapable  of  all  those  incomprehensible  operations  usually  as- 


454  Of  the  Progress  of  the  Mind^ 

cribed  to  mind.  Let  them,  however,  be  saved  from  tenden- 
cies of  this  nature  by  recollecting,  that  admitting  the  utmost 
refinement  in  matter,  and  the  most  exquisite  skill  in  the  ad- 
justment of  its  parts,  still  there  is  an  infinite  distance  be- 
tween any  effect  which  can  be  produced  by  mere  matter,  and 
motion,  and  thinking,  imagination  and  reasoning.  There  is 
all  imaginable  difference  between  conceiving  of  mind,  as  per- 
forming all  its  operations  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
organs  of  sense,  and  conceiving  of  all  those  operations  as  be- 
ing noiliing  more  than  mere  modes  of  motion  in  the  corporeal 
organs.  The  one  we  art  assured  is  performed  in  some  cases, 
as  in  perception  by  the  senses;  the  other  we  are  equally  as- 
sured can  never  be  a  just  doctrine,  in  as  much  as  in  the  train 
of  our  ideas  we  are  convinced,  that  modes  of  motion  in  our 
corporeal  organs  can  make  no  kind  of  approximation  to  think- 
ing. 

Taking  the  above  stated  theory  to  be  true,  of  the  souFs 
always  acting,  in  its  present  state,  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  the  corporeal  organs,  and  medical  science  could 
furnish  us  with  unnumbered  facts  to  confirm  it;  and  without 
the  necessity  of  materializing  the  mind,  as  some  philoso- 
phers have  done,  we  may  account  for  the  phenomena  before 
mentioned,  as  the  state  of  the  soul  in  sleep,  in  dreaming,  a 
swoon,  a  deliquium,  of  suspended  animation  by  drowning,  of 
alienation  of  mind,  of  ecstasies,  trances,  and  all  those  idle 
superstitions  of  the  vulgar  which  relate  to  spectres  and  ap- 
paritions. 1:\  the  case  of  sleep,  of  a  swoon,  deliquium,  and 
suspended  animation  by  drowning,  as  the  soul  finds  the  in- 
struments with  which  it  acts  in  a  stale  of  torpor  it  cannot 
operate,  and  is  in  the  same  condition  in  regard  to  all  its 
faculties,  as  it  is  in  reference  to  perception  by  the  eye,  when 
that  organ  is  dimmed  by  a  gutta  serena,  in  a  state  of  com- 
plete quiescence  and  inaction.  What  will  be  its  condition, 
at  its  total  release  from  the  earthly  tenement,  reason  can 
only  conjecture,  and  revelation  alone  inlorm  us;  but  while 


In  the  Acquisition  of  Ideas,  4iSS 

it  is  bound  in  the  fetters  of  its  bodily  organs,  nothing  could 
seem  to  be  more  certain,  than  that  it  cannot  perform  its 
functions  without  them.  As  to  the  singular  and  curious 
circumstance  of  dreaming,  we  think,  that  upon  the  principles 
we  have  prescribed,  it  may  be  explained,  as  well  perhaps,  as 
the  human  faculties  are  able  to  explain  it.  It  evidr^ntly  ap- 
pears to  be  a  partial  and  imperfect  mode  of  thinking,  that 
operation  of  which  alone  the  mind  is  capable  while  the  cor- 
poreal organs  are  drowned,  and  stupified  in  sleep.  Let  us 
proceed,  however,  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  solve  the  phe- 
nomena of  dreaming,  so  familiar,  and  yet  so  peculiar  and  in- 
teresting. 


CHAPTER  VIL 


Of  Dreaming. 

Sleep  is  one  of  those  ultimate  facts  which  take  place  in 
the  course  of  nature,  which  a  just  philosophy  does  not  at- 
tempt to  explain.  We  can  no  more  ascertain  what  altera- 
tions take  place  in  the  mind  and  body  in  sleeping,  so  as  to 
cause  the  one  to  cease  thinking,  and  prevent  the  other  from 
acting,  than  we  can  determine  in  what  thought,  imagination 
and  reasoning  themselves  consist,  and  how  the  soul  exer- 
cises these  acts.  I'he  same,  however,  is  not  the  case  with 
dreaming.  Being  acquainted  with  the  operations  of  the 
mind  in  its  various  modes  of  thinking,  and  with  the  evident 
state  of  insensibility  into  which  the  body  is  thrown  by  sleep- 
ing, we  may  afford  a  very  satisfactory  solution  of  the  irregu- 
lar and  curious  phenomena  of  dreaming,  without  having  re- 
course, with  Mr.  Baxter,  to  the  interference  of  supernatural 
beings,  or  without  supposing,  with  Bishop  Newton,  that 
the  doctrine  of  Homer  still  retains  its  authority,  and  that 
dreams  descend  from  Jupiter,  or  are  the  immediate  sugges- 
tions of  the  Divine  mind.  Such  doctrines  have  no  founda- 
tion either  in  reason  or  revelation,  and  are  only  calculated  to 
encourage  among  the  ignorant  and  credulous  a  silly  and  in- 
jurious superstition.  Let  us  recur  for  our  solution  to  the 
principles  before  propounded. 

We  have  said  that  it  has  now  been  sufficiently  substan- 
tiated by  fact  and  experience,  that  in  all  cases  of  the  opera- 
tions of  mind,  there  is  a  correspondent  action  produced  in 
the  bodily  organs,  and  vice  versa;  although,  in  no  case  can 
we   become    acquainted    with  the    nature   of  that    action. 

3  M 


^^58  Of  Drcammg. 

Thus  there  is  one  alteration  produced  in  the  corporeal  sys- 
tem b\-  pi  icepiion,  an(,>thfr  by  imagination,  a  third  by  voli- 
tion, and  others  by  reasoning,  and  the  exercise  of  our  pas- 
sions and  aftVctions.  All  this  nice  and  delicate  machinery, 
the  several  parts  of  which  the  mind  successively  sets  into 
operaticjn  in  exercising  its  powers,  is  in  a  state  of  rest  and 
inaction  during  sleep.  Now  su[)pose  that  while  the  mind 
and  body  are  in  this  recumbent  posture,  any  accidental 
cause,  such  as  crudities  in  the  stomach  arising  from  indi- 
gestion, sudden  pain  or  uneasiness  resulting  from  panial 
stoppages  in  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  or  some  impedi- 
ments preventing  the  natural  performance  of  the  secretions 
or  other  functions  of  the  body,  or  a  thousand  other  causes 
which  it  is  impossible  to  enumerate  or  ascertain;  (for  this 
effect  might  be  produced  by  any  thing  affecting  the  senses, 
even  wnile  we  are  turning  in  Ijed.)  Suppose,  Irom  some  of 
these  causes,  the  organs  of  perception  are  excited  uuo  ac- 
tion, or  have  those  alterations  produced  in  them  which  al- 
ways accompany  our  perceptions.  It  is  evident,  under 
these  circumstances,  that  our  perceptive  powers  being  par- 
tially roused  from  their  dormant  state  would  begin  to  act, 
and  we  should  think,  and  a  train  of  thoughts  would  succeed 
each  other  in  the  mind.  Ihe  perceptive  |jow<-rs  being  thus 
excited  into  imperiect  action,  and  the  mind  beginning  to 
think,  all  its  other  faculties  would  be  successively  set  into 
operiition,  as  of  imagination,  mcmoiy,  reason,  \oiition,  &c. 
That  the  mind  may  be  excited  into  that  imperfect  action, 
denominated  dreaming,  by  operating  upon  the  organs  of 
sense  is  proved  by  numberless  facts,  it  is  a  common  ob- 
servation, that  put  any  one's  feet  into  cold  water  while  he  is 
sleeping,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  extract  all  his  secrets  horn 
him,  since  he  will  begin  to  dream  and  talk.  The  thoughts 
too  on  such  occasions,  usuall)  tabten  upon  those  objecib  ihat 
have  a  relation  to  our  oun  si.iKsatiuns.  Air.  Stewart  men- 
tions the  case  of  a  man,  whose  feet  while  he  was  sleeping. 


Of  Dreaming.  459 

being  put  into  hot  water,  dreamt  that  he  was  walking 
amidst  the  burning  lava  of  Mount  Etna,  and  of  another^ 
who  on  account  of  sickness  having  a  blister-plaster  applied  tg 
his  head,  dreamt  that  he  was  scalped  by  Indians.  These 
facts  incontrovercil)ly  show,  that  we  may  be  made  to  think 
by  such  exciting  causes  externally  applied  to  the  senses. 
Let  us  proceed  to  state  the  usjal  phenomena  of  dreaming, 
and  endeavour,  as  far  as  possible,  to  explain  them  upon  the 
principles  we  have  prescribed. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  our  dreams  are 
woven  out  of  the  materials  furnished  by  our  waking  thoughts, 
though  for  the  most  part,  most  strangely,  incoherently  and 
fantastically  wrought  together.  Every  man's  dreams  re- 
ceive their  hue  from  his  own  constitutional  temperament  of 
body  and  mind,  and  respect  those  transactions  in  which  he 
'is  constantly  engaged  in  life.  Hence  Milton,  who  often  dis- 
covers as  much  of  the  Philosopher's  insight  into  nature  as 
of  the  poet's  fancy,  in  his  Paradise  Lost,  represents 
Adam  as  remarking  to  Eve,  after  she  has  recited  to  him 
her  ominous  dream,  that  "  those  airy  shapes,  which  in  her 
sleep  had  been  so  disjoined  by  imagination,  wild  work  pro- 
ducing, bore  some  resemblance  to  their  last  evening's  talk, 
but  with  strange  addition."  The  same  poet  represents  dreams, 
as  the  product  of  fancy,  exercising  her  mimick  art,  in  the 
imitation  of  reason,  who  fashions  our  ideas  into  regular 
structures,  while  this  higher  power  has  retired  into  her  pri- 
vate cell  when  nature  rests.  This  observation  also  is  just 
and  profound,  and  may  serve  to  account  for  those  wild  and 
grotesque  shapes  into  which  our  thoughts  are  apt  to  shoot 
forth  in  dreams.  The  hardier  powers  of  reason,  the  will, 
the  memory,  are  more  slightly  exerted  in  sleep,  while  the 
lighter  ones  of  conception  and  imagination,  are  allowed  to 
operate  without  their  control.  In  the  state  of  sleep,  therefore, 
imagination  released,  for  the  most  part,  from  the  sway  of 
reason,  memory,  or  will,  collects  at  her  pleasure  all  the  co- 


460  Of  Dreaming. 

lours  with  which  she  delineates  her  pictures,  and  mixes  and 
applies  them  with  an  unsteady  hand.  Hence  proceed  the 
wildncss  and  extravagance  of  these  pictures.  And  here  it 
is  to  be  remarked,  that  according  to  the  theory  we  have  pro- 
posed above,  the  natural  result  of  the  state  of  both  body  and 
mind  in  sleep,  is  that  sensation  and  imagination  should  be 
the  principal  agents  in  producing  our  dreams,  while  the 
hardier  powers  of  reason  and  the  will  should  be  nearly  or 
entirely  quiescent.  For  those  causes,  to  which  we  have 
just  alluded,  which  acting  upon  the  senses,  excite  our  per- 
ceptive powers,  and  set  us  to  thinking,  may  easily  give  rise 
within  us  to  a  train  of  ideas  in  regular  succession  through 
the  imagination;  without  producing  those  actions  in  our  bo- 
dily organs  which  always  accompany  the  exercise  of  reason, 
recollection  or  the  will.  How  often  do  we  even  in  our  wa- 
king moments,  indulge  in  those  trains  of  ideas  which  spring 
up  involuntarily  in  the  mind,  without  exerting  in  the  slight- 
est degree  the  higher  faculties?  Is  it  not  probable,  then,  that 
those  faculties  are  still  less  exerted  during  the  torpor  brought 
both  upon  body  and  mind  in  a  state  of  sleep? 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  while  in  ge- 
neral it  is  true,  that  the  hardier  powers  of  reason,  invention, 
recollection  and  willing  are  not  exercised  in  sleep,  but  fancy- 
is  left  alone  to  form  her  most  airy  and  fantastick  shapes,  yet 
there  are  some  exceptions  to  this  rule.  If  those  powers  are 
generally  suspended,  and  our  wildest  dreams  are  produced, 
when  imagination  is  let  loose  from  their  rein,  yet  they  some- 
times act,  and  that  too  with  considerable  efficiency  and  effect. 
Although  our  memory  and  judgment  may  be  sometimes  so 
completely  inert  that  in  dreaming  we  seem  to  converse  with 
our  deceased  friends,  and  to  have  forgotten  that  they  are 
dead,  and  to  frame  in  our  mind  the  mosc  ridiculous  propo- 
sitions; yet,  at  other  times,  we  seem  capable  of  vigorous  acts 
of  both  these  faculties.  "  Often,"  says  Haller,  "in  my  dreams, 
I  seem  to  read  books,  printed  poems,  histories  of  travels,  &c. 


Of  Dreaming.  461 

and  even  see  plants  of  distant  regions  suited  to  their  climates." 
Some  have  been  known  to  solve  problems,  make  verses  and 
deliver  speeches,  while  others,  will  rise  from  bed  asleep, 
with  their  eyes  closed,  and  not  only  walk  about  the  room  or 
house,  going  up  and  down  stairs,  finding  their  way  readily,  and 
avoiding  obstacles,  but  pass  safely  through  very  dangerous 
places,  as  windows,  or  on  the  roofs  of  houses.  Some  som- 
nambuli  or  sleepwalkers  will  even  execute  still  more  difficult 
feats.  They  dress  themselves,  go  out  of  doors,  light  a  fire, 
undress  and  bathe,  saddle  and  bridle  a  horse,  write  and  ex- 
ecute all  the  actions  of  life  correctly,  and  even  sometimes 
acutely.  During  all  this  time  they  are  asleep:  the  eyes  are 
shut,  or  do  not  see  if  opened;  and  when,  they  are  awakened, 
which  is  sometimes  not  easily  effected,  they  do  not  remem- 
ber what  they  have  done.*  Now  all  these  facts  go  to  show 
that  there  is  no  operation  of  the  mind  of  which  we  are  not 
sometimes  capable  in  sleep.  We  reason,  we  recollect,  we 
invent,  we  will,  we  put  ourselves  in  motion.  These  facts 
tend  to  prove  also  that  whatever  subjects  occupied  the  mind 
the  most  deeply  when  awake,  would  be  most  apt  to  occupy 
it  also  in  its  dreams.  This  we  should  expect  to  be  the  na- 
tural result  from  the  principles  before  stated  by  us,  in  regard 
to  the  consentaneous  action  of  the  mind  and  body.  For  as 
soon  as  those  actions  are  produced  in  our  perceptive  pow- 
ers which  set  the  mind  to  thinking,  it  would  seem  natural  to 
expect,  that  they  should  be  immediately  succeeded  by  those 
other  actions  in  the  bodily  organs  and  mind,  to  which  we 
were  most  accustomed.  On  this  account  the  mathema- 
tician, in  his  dream,  will  again  demonstrate  his  theorems  and 
problems;  the  natural  philosopher  prosecute  his  arguments 
from  induction;  the  moralist  prescribe  the  rules  of  moral  du- 
ty; the  poet  indulge  his  propensity  for  verse,  and  the  man 
of  business  retrace  the  transactions  of  his  life.     Under  this 

*  See  Rees'  Cyclopedia,  Arts.  Dreaming  and  Sleeping, 


462  Of  Dreaming. 

view  of  the  subject,  nothing  could  be  more  natural  than  that 

Brutus  should  have  seen  either  in  a  sleeping  or  waking  vi- 
sion, his  evil  genius,  who  rUchirtd  to  him,  "  I  am,  brutus, 
thine  evil  genius!  but  thou  shalt  see  me  again  near  Philippi;" 
or  the  dream  which  Shakspeare  puts  into  the  mouth  of  the 
Duke  of  Clarence,  during  his  confinement  in  prison,  when  with 
so  much  beauty  and  pathos,  he  represents  him  as  having 
felt  himself  to  be  drowning  during  the  visions  of  the  night. 
The  anxious  and  perturbed  state  of  mind  in  which  b(jth  these 
persons  must  have  been  at  the  time,  would  naturally  have 
given  rise  to  such  unpleasant  visions. 

The  next  phenomenon  exhibited  in  dreaming,  which  is  wor- 
thy of  remark,  is,  that  confused  and  obscure  world  into  which, 
on  such  occasions,  we  seem  to  be  introduced.  The  objects  and 
images  art*,  indeed,  all  such  as  are  taken  from  those  arche- 
types which  are  found  in  this  world,  but  they  are  transformed, 
as  by  the  hand  of  a  magician.  We  seem  to  be  transported 
into  a  fairy  land,  and  something  like  that  which  the  poets 
have  fei8:ned  of  the  regions  below,  the  plnce  of  departed  he- 
roes and  sages.  Objects  are  presented  which  deeply  inte- 
rest and  agitate  us,  but  they  flit  before  the  mind  in  quick 
succession,  and  are  at  best  but  dimly  seen  as  through  a  mist. 
Does  not  this  circumstance  definitively  show  that  our  dreams 
are  not  merely  those  thoughts  of  the  soul  which  are  recol- 
lected, while  the  soul  is  always  thinking?  If  this  were  the 
case,  would  there  be  this  distinction  between  our  percep- 
tions in  dreams  and  when  waking?  Would  the  one  appear 
30  much  clearer,  more  satisfactory,  and  more  coherent  than 
the  others?  Is  it  not  evident  that  the  state  of  the  mind,  when 
it  is  thinking  amidst  its  dreams,  is  entirely  different  from 
that  in  which  it  is  when  waking?  In  what  can  this  differ- 
ence consist,  but  in  the  alteration  produced  by  sleep  in  those 
bodily  organs  by  whose  means  it  performs  all  its  operations? 
The  only  way  in  which  this  appearance  of  obscurity  and 
dimness  in  all  our  perceptions  during  sleep,  can  be  account- 


Of  Dreaming,  463 

ted  for,  is  from  the  sluggish  and  inactive  state  of  the  body, 
which  renders  the  mind  unable  to  perform,  through  its  in- 
strumentality, except  very  inadequately,  the  operations  of 
thinking. 

Tne  next  singulaV  circumstance  in  dreaming  is,  that  strange 
appearance  of  reality  which  attends  all  our  thoughts  and 
conceptions.  In  pur  moments  of  waking,  we  may  form  ten 
thousand  imaginations  in  the  mind,  paint  unnumbered  scenes, 
and  sport  ourselves  with  figuring  imaginary  olijects  and  ad- 
ventures, and  never  for  a  moment,  be  deluded  with  any 
sense  of  their  reality.  But  in  our  dreams,  our  most  airy  and 
fantastick  figures  have  a  real  existence,  our  chimeras,  gor- 
gons  and  h}  dras  live,  the  wildest  fictions  are  realised,  we 
take  part  in  the  most  hazardous  adventures,  sail  in  the  air, 
are  tossed  in  tempests  upon  the  ocean,  tumble  from  the  tops 
of  houses,  and  escape  with  difficulty  from  volcanoes, 
earthquakes  and  inundations.  Whence  do  these  airy  ima- 
ginations derive  their  impression  of  reality?  May  it  not  be 
that  the  same  actions  and  alterations  are  produced  in  our 
bodily  organs  of  perception  as  if  these  objects  and  scenes 
were  really  present,  and  that  the  reason  and  judgment, in  such 
cases,  are  too  torpid  and  inactive  to  correct  the  delusions  of 
imagii\ation?  In  proportion  to  the  feebleness  of  reason  among 
mankind  are  they  prone  to  mistake  their  fantasies  for  reali- 
ties. This  is  one  reason  why  an  unenlightened  audience  is 
more  easily  excited  and  transported  out  of  themselves  by 
the  bold  figures,  and  glowing  pictures  of  the  orator  and  the 
actor,  than  that  which  is  enlightened.  Hence  too,  when  rea- 
son, in  cases  of  insanity,  is  entirely  tossed  from  her  throne, 
the  maniac  becomes  the  sport  of  every  wild  illusion. 

Lastly.  We  think  that  the  truth  of  the  theory  we  have 
stated  above,  is  confirmed  by  the  consideration,  that  every 
thing  which  increases  the  irritability  of  the  nervous  system, 
increases  the  tendency  of  mankind  to  dreaming.  Men  of 
active  habits  and  strong,  robust  constitutions,  unless  they  be 


464  Of  Dreaming. 

subject  to  local  disorders,  sleep  soundly,  and  are  seldom  dis- 
turbed with  dreaming;  while  the  sedentary,  the  delicate,  and 
the  nervous  scarcely  ever  pass  a  night  without  this  distur- 
bance. This  too  ought  to  be  expected,  if  dreams  arise,  as 
we  have  above  maintained,  in  affections  of  the  corporeal  or- 
gans, because  those  organs  under  these  circumstances  are 
more  easily  excited;  but  if  the  soul  always  thinks,  and  our 
dreams  are  merely  our  recollected  thoughts  during  sleep, 
why  should  we  be  more  likely  to  recollect  those  ideas  which 
pass  through  the  mind  during  our  repose,  when  our  ner- 
vous system  is  delicate  and  disordered,  than  when  it  is  sound 
and  strong? 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Alienations  of  Mind,  Deliriums,  Ecstacies,  &c. 


A  similar  solution  may  be  given  of  other  mental  pheno- 
mena, such  as  alienations  of  mind,  deliriums,  the  excitement 
which  leads  to  somnambulism,  ecstacies  and  trances,  idiocy 
and  madness,  together  with  those  idle  superstitions  about 
spectres  and  apparitions  that  so  strongly  awaken  the  popu- 
lar sensibility,  and  so  egregiously  abuse  the  credulity  of  the 
vulgar.  Alienations  of  mind  are  in  many  cases  very  sin- 
gular. A  gentleman  from  the  state  of  New  York  who  had 
been  for  some  time  indisposed,  had  some  business  to  per- 
form at  Norristown,  in  the  state  of  Pennsj'lvania.  Setting 
off  from  home  he  went  to  Norristown,  transacted  the  busi- 
ness which  was  assigned  him,  received  a  sum  of  money  from 
the  bank  in  behalf  of  a  company  with  which  he  had  some 
connection,  and  was  just  ready  to  return  to  his  family,  when, 
on  a  sudden,  his  mind  became  disordered.  Without  any 
apparent  motive  he  commenced  a  journey  on  horseback  to 
Baltimore,  of  more  than  an  hundred  miles;  and  after  remain- 
ing a  short  time  in  that  city,  equally  without  motive,  he 
went  from  Baltimore  to  a  small  town  upon  Lake  Erie,  at  a 
distance  of  more  than  two  hundred  miles,  travelling  too  at 
an  inclement  season  of  the  year.  Upon  his  arrival  at  the 
town  upon  Lake  Erie,  being  probably  greatly  fatigued  and  ex- 
hausted, he  obtained  a  refreshing  sleep,  and  upon  waking  in 
the  morning,  appears  to  have  come  to  his  recollection,  and 


466  AlienatioJis  of  M'lnd^ 

was  muph  surprised  to  find  himself  so  remote  from  his  fa- 
inil>',  and  in  j:i,ursuit  of  no  object.  He  now  hastened  home, 
and  his  health  was  improved  as  well  as  his  mind  restored  to 
its  usual  tone.  Such  an  alienation  of  mind  as  this  could 
have  been  occasioned  by  nothing  but  disease,  which  aflPect- 
ing  those  organs  by  which  the  mind  performs  its  operations 
of  reasoning,  judging,  remembering,  and  leaving  it,  without 
their  control,  to  become  the  sport  of  every  vain  im  igination 
which  for  the  time  could  take  possession.  As  soon  as  that 
irr<  gular  action  in  the  system  was  corrected,  the  mind  re- 
turned to  the  performance  of  its  functions.  Dr,  Rush,  in  his 
excellent  work  upon  the  diseases  of  the  mind,  relates  from 
Dr.  Hunter,  the  case  of  a  sea- faring  man,  who  from  unex- 
pectedly sustaining  a  heavy  loss  at  sea,  was  thrown  into  a 
total  alienation  of  mi-id,  insomuch  that  all  its  powers  seem- 
ed to  be  completrl)  suspended.  When  received  into  the 
lunatick  as\lum  at  York,  in  Great  Britain,  he  was  in  a  state 
of  perfect  insensibility.  For  five  years  he  continued  in  this 
condition,  never  expressing  any  desire  for  nourishment,  so 
that  it  became  necessary  at  first,  to  feed  him  in  the  manner 
of  an  infant.  A  servant  umlressed  him  at  night,  and  dres- 
sed him  in  the  morning;  after  which  he  was  conducted  to  his 
seat  in  the  common  parlour,  where  he  remained  all  day  v/ith 
his  body  bent,  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground.  From 
all  circumstances  of  his  behaviour,  he  dil  not  appear  to  be 
capalile  of  reflection.  Every  thing  was  mdifl"erent  to  him; 
and  from  the  fairest  judgment  that  could  be  iormed,  he  was 
considered  by  all  about  him  as  an  animal  convened  nearly 
m\o  a  vegetable.  In  this  state  he  remained  nearly  five  years, 
when,  upon  entering  the  parlour  one  morning,  he  saluted  the 
recovering  patients  with  "  a  good  morrow  lo  \  ou  all."  He 
then  thanked  the  servants  of  the  house  in  the  most  aflPection- 
ate  munner,  for  their  tenderness  to  him;  of  which,  he  said, 
he  began  to  be  sensible  some  weeks  before,  but  had  not  till 
•'then  the  resolution  to  express  his  gratitude.     Talkmg  with 


Deliriums^  Ecstacies^  ^c.  467 

him  about  what  he  ielt  during  the  suspension  of  reason,  he 
said  that  his  mind  was  totally  lost;  but  that  about  two 
montiis  before  his  return  to  himself,  he  began  to  have 
thoughts  and  se^nsations;  these,  however^  only  served  to  con- 
ve)'  to  him  fears  and  apprehensions,  especially  in  the  night 
time."  Here  we  see  an  example  of  a  total  alienation  of 
mind,  from  an  effect  produced,  no  doubt,  upon  those  organs 
by  which  its  operations  are  performed,  by  a  sudden  shock  oc- 
casioned by  a  great  loss  at  sea. 

Deliriums,  no  doubt,  are  a  species  of  waking  and  some- 
times sleeping  dreams,  occasioned  by  violent  actions  in  the 
organs,  so  that  our  ideas  pass  through  the  mind  in  quick 
succession,  and  with  so  much  vivacity  as  to  give  them  strong- 
ly the  appearance  of  reality,  insomuch  that  we  sometimes 
_  talk  in  that  state,  as  we  do  ordinarily  about  the  transactions 
of  life. 

Somnambulism,  is  also  a  species  of  dreaming,  in  which 
the  pictures  formed  in  the  mind  become  so  extremely  vivid, 
and  assume  so  much  the  appearance  of  reality,  that  we  are 
stimulated  to  act  under  the  impression  as  if  awake.  Dr. 
Rush,  in  the  work  above  referred  to,  after  remarking  that  in 
some  cases,  persons  affected  in  this  way,  will  resume  their 
former  occupations,  the  scholar  will  return  to  his  studies, 
the  poet  to  his  pen,  and  the  artisan  to  his  labour;  relates  a 
singular  instance  in  Dr.  Blacklock  of  Edinburgh.  '"'The  Dr.," 
he  informs  us,  "  has  been  known  to  rise  from  his  bed  to  which 
he  had  retired  at  an  early  hour,  come  into  the  room  where 
his  family  was  assembled,  converse  with  them,  and  after- 
wards entertain  them  with  a  pleasant  song,  without  any  of 
them  suspecting  that  he  was  asleep,  and  without  his  retain- 
ing after  he  awoke,  the  least  recollection  of  what  he  had 
done."  A  tendency  to  somnambulism,  which  is  most  likely 
to  appear  in  children  of  ardent  temperaments  and  delicate 
constitutions,  might  I  am  convinced,  be  checked  and  over- 
come, if  duly  attended  to  upon  its  first  appearance.     My  el- 


468  Alienations  of  Mindj 

dest  son,  when  about  ten  years  of  age,  was  in  the  habit,  soon 
after  he  had  fallen  asleep  at  night,  of  rising  out  ot  bed  ap- 
parently in  great  distress,  walking  about  the  room  in  pur- 
suit of  some  object,  of  which  he  would  often  speak,  and 
sometimes  take  possession,  uttering  all  the  time  the  stran- 
gest and  most  incoherent  language.  If  spoken  to,  he  would 
return  answers,  open  his  eyes,  but  remain  fast  asleep,  and 
with  difficulty  would  be  awakened.  I  always  ascribed  this 
appearance  to  the  delicacy  of  his  constitution,  which  pre- 
vented him  from  perfectly  digesting  the  food  that  he  had  re- 
ceived in  the  day,  and  whose  crudities,  of  consequence  would 
be  more  likely  to  act  upon  the  system,  and  occasion  dream- 
ing immediately  after  he  fell  asleep  than  at  any  other  time. 
Such  tendencies  in  children  should  be  speedily  and  effectu- 
ally checked  in  the  commencement,  or  thev  will  soon,  con- 
tract habits  which  it  is  impossible  to  subdue.  If  gentle 
means  will  not  answer  the  purpose,  more  violent  ones  should 
be  resorted  to.  I  am  convinced  that  men  become  sleep- 
walkers and  stutterers,  only  from  the  want  of  attention  in 
parents  and  guardians,  in  the  formation  of  their  habiis.  In 
the  case  of  stuttering,  I  am  able  to  decide  from  some  expe- 
rience, that  harsh  expedients  should  never  be  adopted. 

Ecstacies  and  trances  are  to  be  referred  to  the  same  class 
of  phenomena  as  those  beforementioned,  and  are  the  result  of 
some  singular  but  irregular  actions  in  the  corporeal  organs, 
which  more  immediately  minister  to  the  purposes  of  thinking. 
In  the  discussion  of  subjects  of  this  nature,  we  would  wish  to 
be  considered  as  referring  in  all  cases  to  the  ordinary,  and  not 
the  extraordinary,  operations  of  nature.  God,  who  has  ori- 
ginally contrived  and  arranged  the  whole  system,  both  of 
the  physical  and  moral  world,  can  surely  contravene  at  his 
pleasure,  those  laws  which  he  has  established  in  it,  and  make 
any  portion  of  it  subservient  to  his  purposes.  If  it  be  his  will, 
he  surely  possesses  the  power  of  revealing  his  designs  to 
mankind  by  dreams  and  visions,  by  ecstacies  and  trances,  and 


Deliriums^  Ecstacies^  &?c.  469 

no  doubt  he  can  accompany  such  disclosures  and  immediate 
revelations,  with  decisive  evidences  of  their  being  the  ope- 
ration of  his  hand;  insomuch  that  the  person  to  whom  these 
favours  are  vouchsafed,  cannot  entertain  a  doubt  of  the  di- 
vine agency.  St.  Paul,  in  his  rapture,  ecstacy,  trance,  or 
heavenly  vision,  call  it  what  we  may,  seems  to  have  been 
sure  that  Paradise  was  unfolded  to  him,  in  which  he  dis- 
tinctly perceived  those  jcys  which  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear 
heard,  and  of  which  it  hath  not  entered  into  the  heart  of  man 
to  conceive;  but  he  does  not  appear  to  have  been  certain, 
whether  this  revelation  was  made  to  him  while  his  soul  was 
within  or  without  the  body.  Now,  no  rational  man  can  doubt, 
that  he  who  is  the  great  Fountain  of  light  and  knowledge, 
could  have  shed  abroad  such  light  throue;h  the  spirit  of 
the  blessed  Apostle;  and  of  this  miraculous  communica- 
tion to  him,  he  gave  sufficient  demonstration  in  his  works, 
the  only  authentic  seals  of  a  divine  mission.  That  God  also 
during  the  progress  of  the  Patriarchal,  Mosaic,  and  Chris- 
tian dispensations  did  make  known  his  counsels,  as  well  by 
dreams,  visions,  and  immediate  illapses  of  his  spirit,  as  by 
signs  and  wonders  innumerable,  none  but  infidels  disbelieve. 
But  we  are  speaking  at  this  time,  not  of  the  miraculous  but 
the  ordinary  operations  of  nature.  The  first  ceased  as  soon 
as  the  necessities  of  the  Church  no  longer  demanded  their 
continuance,  the  last  will  be  as  permanent  as  the  syscem  of 
the  universe.  Those  ecstacies,  trances  and  visions,  which 
are  now  witnessed  in  the  world,  may  be  explained  upon  the 
same  principles  upon  which  we  have  before  endeavoured  to 
account  for  dreams,  delirium  and  somnambulism.  Medical 
treatises  are  full  of  recitals  of  the  effects  which  are  produced 
upon  the  human  mind  by  fear,  joy,  despair,  grief,  and  all 
the  strongest  passions.  In  the  case  before  referred  to  of  the 
sea-faring  man,  we  have  seen  despair,  by  a  sudden  shock, 
suspend  all  the  powers  of  the  mind,  and  deprive  its  victim 
of  every  attribute  that  distinguishes  the  human  race,  except 


470  Alienations  of  Mind ^ 

the  functions  of  animal  life.  Fear,  jov,  grief,  have  an  equally 
powerful  operation,  leading  the  subjects  of  their  influence  to 
a  train  of  diseases,  and  even  to  madness  and  death.  Now, 
let  us  suppose,  that  a  christian  soul  who  has  lived  a  life  of 
indifference  to  religious  duty,  or  even  of  positive  and  atro- 
cious guilt,  is,  from  some  circumstance,  suddenly  awakened 
to  a  pungent  sense  of  his  guilt  and  wrt  tchedness,  and  of  the 
extreme  danger  to  which  he  was  exposed  in  a  state  of  im- 
penitence. Is  there  any  thing  wonderful  or  even  extraordi- 
nary, if  in  such  a  case,  religious  terror  seizing  upon  the 
mind,  so  operates  upon  the  organs  of  the  body  by  which  it 
acts,  as  to  produce  a  strange  and  disordered  action  in  the 
whole  system,  absorb  the  whole  energy  of  the  soul  to  itself, 
and  suspend  all  the  powers  of  it  save  those  which  are  exer- 
cised in  its  religious  feelings?  Such  states  of  ecstacy,  trance 
or  rapture,  are  as  naturally  the  result  of  excessive  religious 
fear  or  joy,  as  those  which  are  produced  by  any  other  strong 
passion  or  emotion.  In  this  state  of  excitement,  no  other 
ideas  float  through  the  mind  but  those  which  relate  to  God, 
the  Saviour,  the  joys  and  pains  of  futurity.  If  the  penitent 
soul  is  just  smitten  with  contrition,  alarmed  for  his  safety, 
and  stung  with  a  sense  of  guilt,  his  reflections  are  sad  and 
gloomy,  if  he  is  conscious  of  having  obtained  pardon  and 
made  his  peace  with  God,  his  ecstacy  translates  him  to  hea- 
ven, and  unfolds  to  him  all  its  glories  and  beatitudes.  No- 
thing can  be  more  natural  than  all  results  of  this  kind.  There 
is  no  necessity  for  supposing  the  immediate  and  miraculous 
interference  of  God  on  such  occasions,  as  these  are  effects 
which  flow  from  the  operation  of  principles  known  to  exist 
in  the  constitution  of  human  nature. 

Idiocy  may  arise  from  some  original  defect  in  the  nature 
and  properties  of  the  mind,  or  what  is  more  probable,  from 
a  mal -conformation  and  adjustment  of  the  component  parts 
of  the  body,  and  more  especially,  of  those  parts  which  are 
made  use  of  by  the  mind   in   discharging   its   higher  func- 


Deliriums  J  Ecstacies^  &?c.  471 

tions,  as  of  reason,  judgment  and   volition.     Idiots  never 
know  how  to  reason,  reflect,  or  judge,  and  the  ideas  which 
they  have  are  very  confused  and  indistinct.  The  whole  ma- 
chinery of  the  body,  in  this  case,  appears  to  be  defectively 
constructed,  and  the  mind  embarrassed  and  impeded   in   all 
its  functions.     Madmen,  on  the  other  hand,  it  would  seem, 
have  all  the  powers  of  their  nature  in  full  perfection,  but 
from  a  great  variety  of  causes,  a  deranged  action  is  intro- 
duced  into   them,  and   an   incalculable   variety  of  singular 
phenomena  are  exhibited.     While  idiots  are  almost  entirely 
destitute  of  ideas,  or  have  their  minds  occupied  only  with 
the  most  crude  and  misshapen  conceptions,  and  are  utterly 
incapable  of  any  intellectual  exertion,  madmen  are  not  un- 
frequently  seen,  to  discover  no  common  share  of  ingenuity 
and  acuteness.   While  their  heaas  are  filled  with  the  wildest 
conceptions,   and   the    most  ridiculous   chimeras   usurp  the 
possession  of  them,  they  are  still  capable  of  exercising  the 
faculties  of  judgment,  reasoning,  invention,  and  a  variety  of 
talents.     One  supposes  himself  to  be  a  goose,  a  cock,  a  dog, 
or  a  cat,  and  he  imitates  those  animals  in  his  voice  and  ges- 
tures; another,  that  he  has  died,  and  he  stretches  his  body  and 
limbs  upon  a  bed,  or  a  board,  and  assumes  the  stillness  and 
silence  of  a  corpse.  A  third,  who  was  a  prince  of  the  house 
of  Bourbon  in  France,  imagined  himself  a  plant,  and  placed 
himself  in  the  garden  in  order  to  be  watered;  while  a  fourth, 
is  fully  impressed  with  a  conviction,  that  he  is  a  king,  as- 
sumes the  air  and  port  of  majesty,   and   demands   from  all 
around  him  the  homage   due  to  a  sovereign.     In  all  these 
cases,  they  appear  capable  of  deducing  just  inferences  from 
false  principles.     The  wildness,  extravagance  and  absurdity 
of  their  pretensions,  are  not  a  little  remarkable.     A  young 
man  in  the  Philadelphia  hospital,  as  we  are  informed  by  Dr. 
Rush,  was  impressed  with  a  full  conviction  that  he  was  once 
a  calf,  and  mentioned  the  butcher's  name  who  had  slaugh* 
; 


4/2  Alienations  of  Mind, 

tered  himj  another  felt  equally  assured,  that  he  had  a  wolf 
within  him,  which  was  devouring  his  liver. 

Several  imagined  themselves  the  Messiah,  or  assumed  the 
character  and  claims  of  the  three  persons  of  the  Trinity.   A 
clergyman  of  Elizabethtown,  in   New   Jersey,  while   upon 
every  other  subject,  he  was  a  rational   and   intelligent  man, 
and  was  regarded  by  his  flock  as  a  very  able  and  successful 
preacher,  had  his  mind  so  disordered  with  the  expectation 
of  the  millenium,  that  it  deprived  him  of  his  character  and 
influence  as  a  Pastor.     On  one  occasion,  so  satisfied  was  he 
of  the  truth  of  his  calculation  from  the  Scriptures,  that  he 
gave  public  notice  from  his  pulpit,  of  the  day  and  hour,  in 
which  the  coming  of  Christ  was  to   take  place,  and  invited 
his  congregation  to  assemble  in  the  church,  for  the  purpose 
of  meeting  their  Saviour.     Many  of  them  did  so,  some  at- 
tracted by  that  curiosity  so  natural  on  such  occasions,  and 
others  not  a  little  anxious  and  alarmed,   lest   his   prediction 
should  be  accomplished.     Detecting  the  error  of  his  calcu- 
lations, undeceived  the  people  as  to  the  character  and  pre- 
tensions of  their  pastor,  but  never  cured  his  insanity,  for  he 
continued  to  be  aff"ected  with  the  same  or  similar  derange- 
ment to  the  end  of  life.  I  myself  was  acquainted  with  a  young 
man,  who  lived  at  that  time  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  and 
was  in  the  habit  of  frequenting  some  of  the   best  company, 
who,  after  I  had  known  him  for  a  short  time,  and  looked 
upon  him  as  a  sensible  and   well-informed  youth,   one   day 
desired  to  speak  to  me  in  private  in  my  study.     Somewhat 
surprised  at  the  request,  1  yielded  to  his  proposal,  and  con- 
ducted him  into  my  study,  when   he   communicated  to  me, 
what  he  considered  as  a  very  important  secret,  viz.  that  he 
was  the  son  of  general  Washington.  Astonished  at  the  intel- 
ligence, I  knew  not  at  first  what  to  think,  and  began  strictly 
to  interrogate  him  about  the  particulars  of  his  birth.  He  had 
contrived  to  frame  a  very  coherent  and  plausible  story,  men- 
tioned an  English  lady  of  rank  as  his  mother,  who  1  had 


Deliriums^  Ecstacies,  &?c.  473 

yeason  to  believe  had  been  in  habits  of  intimate  acquaintance 
with  general  Washington's  family;  but  when  he  came  to  de- 
scribe the  particulars  of  the  striking  resemblance  between 
himself  and  our  president,  and  the  honours,  which  on  some 
occasions  had  been  paid  him  by  the  military,  who  recogniz- 
ed those  resemblances,  his  derangement  stood  revealed  to 
me.  In  every  other  matter,  tins  young  man  was  intelligent 
and  respectable.  The  object  of  this  youth  in  speaking  to 
me  upon  the  subject,  was,  that  he  might  be  introduced  to 
Judge  Bushrod  Washington,  the  relative  and  heir  of  the 
president,  and  through  his  means,  obtain  his  portion  of  the 
family  estate,  and  have  his  rank  and  dignity  acknowledged 
by  the  American  nation.  Here  we  again  perceive  that  his 
error  lay  in  his  principle,  and  not  in  the  consequences  which 
he  deduced  from  it.  It  would  seem,  from  facts  of  this  na- 
ture, as  if  the  human  mind,  by  dwelling  habitually  upon  any 
one  object,  whether  that  object  awakes  either  very  strong 
apprehension  and  pain,  or  very  anxious  desire,  may,  at 
length,  become  completely  disordered  about  it,  may  bring 
itself  to  believe  that  its  fears  or  its  hope,  will  surely  be  re- 
alised. If  ambition  was  the  ruling  passion  of  the  maniac,  and 
blasted  expectations  disarranged  the  powers  of  his  under- 
standing, his  irritated  spirit  either  writhes  vi'ith  inward  an- 
guish, or  finds  its  solace  in  forming  a  visionary  fabric  of  its 
own  greatness,  and  in  imagination  he  becomes  a  hero,  a 
prince,  or  a  king.  If  disappointed  love  has  driven  him  to 
madness,  he  spends  his  time  in  moping  melancholy,  or  if  he 
have  any  talent  for  poetry,  in  pouring  forth  his  sorrows  in 
regular  numbers.  Avarice  in  the  maniac  displays  itself,  in 
his  supposing  himself  possessed  of  inexhaustible  wealth,  or 
in  perpetual  lamentations  at  the  prospect  of  coming  to  po- 
verty; while  that  Insanity,  which  is  brought  on  by  excessive 
indulgence  of  the  passions,  or  by  the  perpetration  of  atro- 
cious guilt,  often  inflicts  upon  the  miserable  sufferer  a  dread- 
ful penalty,  he  endures  even  in  this  world  all  the  horrors  of 

3o 


474  Alienations  of  Mind ^ 

the  damned,  feeling  himself,  in  the  language  of  the  poet, 
*'  bound  upon  a  whetl  of  fire."  The  wretched  sufferers  in  a 
mad-house,  while  they  awake  all  our  best  sympathies  in  their 
behalf,  and  merit  all  the  succours  which  humanity  prompts 
us  to  extend  to  them,  should  furnish  us  with  awful  admoni- 
tions, against  giving  too  loose  a  reign  to  the  passions.  An- 
ger rendered  one  ot  the  kings  of  France  insane,  and  our 
hospitals  are  filled  with  the  victims  of  revenge,  grief,  des- 
pair, inordinate  ambition,  inextinguishable  avarice,  and  un- 
controlled lust. 

There  is  one  more  circumstance  only  in  reference  to  mad- 
ness, which  is  particularly  worthy  ot   the  attention  of  philo- 
sophy. Dr.  Kush  was  frequently  surprised  to  find,  that  mad- 
ness often  led  to  the  development  of  talents,  wi  ich  had  ne- 
ver appeared  betore.     "  The  records  of  ihe  wit  and  cunning 
of  madmen,"  says  the  Dr.,  "  are  numerous  in  every  country. 
Talents  tor  eloquence,  poetry,  music,  and  painting,  and  un- 
common ingenuity  in  several  of  the  mechanical  arts,  are  of- 
ten evolved  in  this  slate  of  madness.     A  gentleman,  whom 
I  attended  in  our  hospital  in  the  year  1810,  olten  delighted, 
as  well  as  astonished  the  patients  and  officers  of  our  hospi- 
tal, by  his  displays  ot  oratory,  in  preachmg  from  a  table,  in 
the  ho-.pital  yjrd  every  Sunday.     A  female  patient  ol  mine, 
v/ho  became  msane  alter  parturition  in  the  year  1807,  sang 
hymns  and  songs  of  her  own  composition,  during  the  latter 
stage  ot  her  lUness,  with  a  tone  of  voice   so   soft   and   plea- 
sant, that  1  hung  upon  it  with  delight,  every  time  1  visited 
her.  She  had  never  discovered  a  talent  tor  poetry  nor  music, 
in  any  previous  part  of  her  life.     Two  instances  of  a  talent 
for  drawing,   evolved  by  madness  have  occurred  within  my 
knowledge.     And  where  is  the  hospital  for  mad  people,  in 
Avhich    elegant    and   completely   rigged  ships,  and    curious 
pieces  of  machinery,  have    not   been   exhibited    by   persons 
who   never  discovered   the   least  turn  tor  a  mechanical  art, 
previously  to  their  derangement?    Sometimes  we  observe  in 


Deliriums^  Ecstacies^  ^c.  475 

mad  people,  an  unexpected  resuscitation  of  knowledge;  hence 
we  hear  them  describe  past  events,  and  speak  in  anc'ent  or 
modern  languages,  or  repeat  long  and  interesting  passages 
from  books,  none  of  which,  we  are  sure,  they  were  capable 
of  recollecting,  in  the  natural  and  healthy  state  of  their 
mind." 

These  effects  are,  undoubtedly  singular,  but  may  be  ac- 
counted for  upon  the  ordinary  principles  of  human  nature, 
and  are  reconcileable  with  its  ordinary  laws.  These  very 
circumstances,  it  is  probable,  gave  rise  to  that  ridiculous  su- 
perstition with  which  some  barbarous  nations  regard  mad- 
men. Seeing  new  powers  of  mind  and  body  developed  by 
insanity,  and  being  unable  from  their  ignorance  of  human 
nature  to  account  for  it,  they  were  easily  led  to  believe  that 
such  persons  received  these  unexpected  powers  by  superna- 
tural agency.  But  surely  madness  can  confer  no  new  faculty 
or  talent  upon  mankind.  The  utmost  that  those  changes  in 
the  corporeal  and  mental  system  which  are  produced  by  mad- 
ness, would  seem  capable  of,  is  to  give  excitement  to  the 
mind,  and  call  into  exercise  those  faculties,  which  without 
this  exciting  cause  would  have  lain  dormant.  Dr.  Rush  has 
undertaken  to  show  that  the  proximate  cause  of  madness,  is 
in  the  blood  vessels  of  the  brain;  and  he  has  furnished  very 
powerful  arguments  in  support  of  his  theory.  Whatever  may 
be  the  immediate  cause,  it  is  certain,  that  great  changes  are 
produced  in  the  brain  by  this  greatest  infirmity  of  our  nature, 
A  new  and  violent  action  is  effected  in  those  organs  of  the 
body,  that  more  immediately  minister  to  the  highest  opera- 
tions of  the  mind.  May  not  this  action,  dreadful  and  vio- 
lent as  it  is,  set  all  the  powers  of  the  mind  into  strenuous 
operation,  and  thus  disclose  to  us  many  talents  that  other- 
wise would  forever  have  been  buried  in  oblivion,  as  a  vol- 
canoe  or  an  earthquake  in  the  natural  world  discloses  to  us 
many  precious  materials  which  are  concealed  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth?     We  are  assured  that  some  unusual  and  most 


4r6  Alienations  of  Mind ^ 

violent  agitation,  such  as  is  occasioned  by  the  stronger  pas- 
sions almost  always  occasions  insanity,  and  it  is   more   than 
probablt  that  the  same  kind  of  irritation  continues  it.     The 
talents  which  are  evolved  in  a  state  of  madness,  by  the  ex- 
citement of  the  mind,  reveal  to  us  one  other  of  the  secrets  of 
nature,   viz.    how    large  a   proportion  of  the   finest  talents 
among  mankind,  lie  in  a  dormant  state,  and    are   never  dis- 
closed to  the  world,  for  the  want  of  those  exciting  causes 
that  stimulate  them  into  action;  although   I  am    inclined  to 
think,  that  it  is  not  they  who?e  minds  are  of  ordinary  or  vul- 
gar structure,  who  usually  become  insane.    Madness  is  more 
apt  to  result  from  over-wrought  sensibility  and  refinement 
of  feeling,  than  from  dull  and  sluggish  perceptions;  and  I  feel 
convinced  in  my  own  mind,  that  if  the  matter  could  be  accu- 
rately tested  and  fully  ascertained,  our  mad-houses  would  be 
found  to  be  inhabited  by  many  of  the  choicest  spirits  of  the 
nation,  but  spirits  which  have  exhausted  their  energy  in  eating 
out  their  own  peace,  and  by  the  tempests  which  their  passions 
excite,  throwing  their  systems  into  confusion  and  wild  uproar. 
The   only  phenomena,  under  this  head  which  remain  to 
be  explained,  are,  those  of  spectral  visions  and   apparitions, 
which,  even  at  this  enlightened  age,  to  the  disgrace  of  man- 
kind, have  popular  belief  on  their  side.     Nothing  can  be  more 
absurd  and  ridiculous   than  such  credulity,  and  yet  there  is 
nothing  to  which  mankind  seem  to  discover  a  more   violent 
propensity  to  give  credence,  and  upon  which  their  superstition 
is  more  unconquerable.  The  only  fact  recorded  in  the  sacred 
writings,  which  would  seem  to  furnish  any  countenance  to  a 
superstition  of  this  kind,  is  that  which   relates  to  Saul   and 
the  witch  of  Endor,  who  undertook  by  magical  incantations 
to  raise  Samuel  from  the  dead.     In  regard,  however,  to  this 
transaction,  it  appt-ars  evident  from  the  recital,  when  all  its 
parts  are  viewed  in  connection,  that  in  the  true  spirit  of  her 
art,  she  practised  a  gross    imposition  upon   Saul.     The  cry 
which  this  sorceress  uttered  upon  the  pretended  appearance 


Deliriums,  Ecstacies,  ££?e.  477 

of  Samuel,  her  feigned  discovery  of  the  person  of  her  king, 
with  which  no  doubt  she  had  been  before  acquainted,  the 
wily  questions  and  answers  which  were  represented,  per- 
haps, by  the  power  of  ventriloquism,  as  proceeding  from 
Samuel,  whose  ghost  Saul  does  not  see  during  the  whole 
conversation,  the  bold  prophecies  which  shtt  hazarded,  trust- 
ing to  her  knowledge  of  all  the  facts,  exhibit  in  a  strong 
point  of  view  the  address  and  artifice  of  this  necromancer,  or 
dealer  with  familiar  spirits,  and  the  weak  credulity  with 
which  Saul,  in  his  state  of  despondency  and  discomposure  of 
mind,  allowed  himself  to  be  duped. 

This  transaction,  therefore,  as  related  in  holy  scripture, 
when  justly  interpreted  and  rightly  understood,  gives  no  sup- 
port to  those  idle  superstitions  so  prevalent  among  the  vul- 
gar, about  ghosts  and  apparitions.  It  shows  nothing  more 
than  that  there  were  among  the  Jews,  as  among  other  na- 
tions, a  set  of  persons  who  made  it  their  trade  thus  to  tam- 
per with  the  ignorance  and  credulity  of  the  people. 

Considering  the  scriptures,  then,  in  this  matter,  as  not  in- 
terfering with  or  superseding  the  speculations  of  philosophy, 
we  proceed  to  account,  upon  the  known  and  acknowledged 
principles  of  the  science  of  the  human  mind,  for  those  de- 
ceptions of  the  senses  which  have  given  rise  to  the  belief  in 
spectral  visions  and  apparitions.  We  have  already  shown 
in  our  previous  disquisitions,  that  in  every  case  in  which 
there  is  perception,  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  ex- 
ternal organ  of  sense,  there  is  always  some  action  produced 
in  that  organ.  Whether  that  action  be  a  vibratory  motion 
of  the  nerves,  as  Hartley  imagines,  or  a  longitudinal  motion, 
or  any  other  of  which  we  can  form  no  conception,  we  dre 
unable  to  decide.  Now,  if  we  suppose  it  to  happen  that  this 
action  should  from  any  circumstances,  or  the  operation  of 
any  causes  whatever,  be  produced  in  the  system  when  the 
object  is  not  present,  the  same  effect  will  be  produced  upon 
the  mind  as  if  it  were,  and  it  will  appear  to  be  present.  This 


478  '       Alienations  of  Mind ^ 

action,  however,  never   takes  place   irregularly,  in  a  scmnd 
and  healthful  state  of  the  organs,  but  only  through  the  influ- 
ence of  disease  or  a  delicate  condition  of  the   nervous  sys- 
tem, brought  on  by   sedentary   habits,  by   watchfulness  and 
solicitude,  too  intense   application   of  mind  to  any  subjects 
unusually  interesting,  or  by  intemperance  and  excessive  in- 
dulgence of  the   passions.     Those  sounds  which  infest  the 
ears  of  all  of  us,  and  particularly  upon  the  approach  of  a  cold 
or  catarrh,  can  be  occasioned  in  no  other  way  but  by  such  an 
effect  being  produced  upon  the  auditory  nerves,  as   if  those 
nerves  had  really  been  affected  by  undulations  of  air.     In  a 
similar  manner  we  may  account  for  those  noises  which  are 
heard  by  persons  of  a  gloomy  and  superstitious  temperament, 
which  they  consider   as  ominous   and   prognosticating   their 
death,  as  well  as   those  blows  which   they  not   unfrequently 
suppose  themselves  to   have  felt  upon  different   parts  of  the 
body,  and  to  which  a  timid   imagination  too  readily  affixes 
some  secret   meaning.     Those  v.'ho  are  weak  enough   to  al- 
low such  apprehensions  to   disturb  their  peace,   may   be  as- 
sured that  their  fears   are   visionary,  and   that  heaven   will 
not  be  likely  to  resort  to  such  fantastic   expedients  as   these, 
expedients  unworthy  of  its  dignity,  to  communicate  to  man- 
kind that  knowledge   about  futurity  which  it   has  so  sedu- 
lously, and  for  the  wisest  purposes,  concealed  from  his  most 
eager  curiosity,  and  most  profound  research. 

All  spectres,  ominous  sounds,  unusual  sights,  apparitions 
and  hob-goblins,  that  are  prone  to  haunt  church-yards  and 
gloomy  recesses,  we  may  be  assured  exist  only  in  our  per- 
ceptions. When  the  constitutions  of  men  are  destroyed  by 
the  intemperate  use  of  ardent  spirits,  or  the  indulgence  of 
illicit  love,  strange  sights  have  infested  their  vision,  produc- 
ed beyond  all  doubt,  by  that  irregular  and  anomalous  action, 
introduced  into  the  nervous  system  by  such  excesses.  As  we 
have  seen  that  the  body  is  sometimes  made  to  act  upon  and 
influence  the  mind,  so  the  mind  in  its  turn  has  a  reciprocal 


Deliriums^  Ecstacies^  ^c.  479 

influence  upon  the  body.  Let,  then,  any  object  be  present- 
ed to  a  timid  imagination,  which  is  calculated  to  excite  its 
superstitious  fears;  as  for  instance,  that  kind  of  light  which 
in  damp  and  unwholesome  places  sometimes  makes  its  ap- 
pearance, and  is  denominated  an  ignis  fatuus;  and  immedi- 
ately amidst  the  gloom  of  night,  the  mind  of  the  beholder, 
excited  by  superstitious  terrors,  produces  the  same  effect  upon 
the  visual  organs,  as  if  some  terrible  figure  was  presented  to 
the  eye,  and  he  sees  a  living  monster  or  hobgoblin,  with 
eyes,  mouth,  head,  and  distorted  limbs,  threatening  to  de- 
vour him.  Dr.  Samuel  Smith,  late  president  of  Princeton 
College,  in  his  7th  lecture  upon  Moral  Philosophy,  enumer- 
ates several  very  curious  instances  of  spectral  visions  of  this 
nature,  and  very  judiciously  explains  them  all  upon  princi- 
ples, similar  to  those  which  we  have  just  propounded.  "  A 
young  lady,"  he  informs  us,  "  who  was  peculiarly  susceptible 
of  impressions  of  fear  in  the  dark,  had  attended  the  funeral 
of  a  friend  who  had  died  with  the  small-pox.  Waking  sud- 
denly the  night  afterwards  from  sleep,  she  discerned,  by  the 
light  of  the  moon,  which  faintly  illuminated  her  chamber,  a 
white  robe  hanging  on  the  back  of  a  chair  and  a  cap  placed 
on  the  top.  Her  disturbed  imagination  soon  converted  the 
object  before  her  into  the  image  of  her  deceased  friend,  just 
as  she  was  dressed  to  be  laid  in  her  coffin,  and,  as  she  de- 
clared afterwards,  when  the  whole  delusion  was  revealed  to 
her,  she  was  sure  that  she  recognised  every  feature  of  her 
friend,  and  even  the  pits  of  the  small-pox,  with  which  she 
died,  in  her  face."  Here  we  see  out  of  what  rude  outlines, 
presented  by  nature,  an  agitated  mind  formed  a  complete 
and  terrible  picture.  "  A  man,"  continues  the  Dr.,  "  who 
had  reduced  himself  by  intemperance  to  very  distressing 
nervous  irregularity,  was  continually  disturbed  by  visions, 
sometimes  of  the  most  frightful,  and  sometimes  of  the  most 
fantastic  kind.  He  would  hear  strange  voices,  would  ask 
and  answer  questions,  as  if  engaged  in  conversation  with  vi. 


480  Alienations  of  Mind^ 

sionary  personages;  so  that  the  baron  Von  Swedenborg,  in 
his  most  visionary  moments,  was  never  surrounded  by  more 
extraordinary  assemblages  of  strange  sights."  These  facts, 
together  with  the  stoiy  of  Lord  Lyttleton's  vision  of  his 
mother,  who  announced  to  him  his  approaching  end  but  a 
few  days  before  he  died,  together  with  several  others  of  a 
similar  nature,  Dr.  Smith  very  justly  and  philosophically  as- 
cribes to  nervous  excitement. 

But  the  most  complete  series  of  facts  which  I  have  ever 
seen  assembled  together  on  tliis  subject,  and  which,  in  truth, 
may  be  regarded  as  a  course  of  moral  experiments  upon  it, 
as  perfectly  satisfactory  to  the  mind,  as  those  of  Cheselden, 
beforementioned,  were,  in  regard  to  vision  and  the  original 
perceptions  of  sight,  are  contained  in  the  following  statement, 
which  is  extracted  from  a  German  publication. 

"  M.  Nicolai,  a  member  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Berlin, 
some  time  since  presented  to  that  institution,  a  memoir  on 
the  subject  of  a  complaint  with  which  he  was  affected;  and 
one  of  the  singular  consequences  of  which  was,  the  repre- 
sentation of  various  spectres  or  apparitions.  M.  Nicolai  for 
some  years  had  been  subject  to  a  congestion  in  the  head,  and 
was  blooded  frequently  for  it  by  leeches.  After  a  detailed 
account  of  his  health,  on  which  he  grounds  much  medical, 
as  well  as  psycological  reasoning,  he  gives  the  following  in- 
teresting narrative. 

"  In  the  first  two  months  of  the  year  1791,  I  was  much  af- 
fected in  my  mind,  by  several  incidents  of  a  very  disagree- 
able nature;  and  on  the  24th  of  February,  a  ^circumstance 
occurred  which  irritated  me  extremely.  At  ten  o'clock  in 
the  forenoon,  my  wife  and  another  person  came  to  console 
me;  I  was  in  a  violent  perturbation  of  mind,  owing  to  a  se- 
ries of  incidents,  which  had  altogether  wounded  my  moral 
feelings,  and  from  which  I  saw  no  possibility  of  relief,  when 
suddenly  I  observed  at  the  distance  of  ten  paces  from  me,  a 
figure,  the  figure  of  a  deceased  person,     I  pointed  at  it,  and 


spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions,  481 

asked  my  wife  whether  she  did  not  see  it.  She  said  nothing, 
but  being  much  alarmed,  she  endeavoured  to  compose  me, 
and  sent  for  the  physician.  The  figure  remained  some  seven 
or  eight  minutes,  and  at  length  I  became  a  little  more  calm; 
and  as  I  was  extremely  exhausted,  I  soon  after  fell  into  a 
troubled  kind  of  slumber,  which  lasted  for  about  half-an 
hour.  The  vision  was  ascribed  to  the  great  agitation  of  mind 
in  which  I  had  been,  and  it  was  supposed  that  I  should  have 
nothing  more  to  apprehend  from  that  cause;  but  the  violent 
affection  having  put  my  nerves  into  an  unusual  state,  from 
this  arose  further  consequences,  which  require  a  more  de- 
tailed description. 

"  In  the  afternoon,  a  little  after  four  o'clock,  the  figure 
which  I  had  seen  in  the  morning  again  appeared.  I  was  alone 
when  this  happened;  a  circumstance  which,  as  may  be  easi- 
ly conceived,  could  not  be  very  agreeable.  I  went  therefore, 
to  the  apartment  of  my  wife,  to  whom  I  related  it.  But 
thither  also  the  figure  pursued  me.  Sometimes  it  was  pre- 
sent, sometimes  it  vanished;  but  when  seen  it  was  always  the 
same  standing  figufe.  A  little  after  six  o'clock,  several  stalk- 
ing figures  also  appeared;  but  they  had  no  connexion  with 
the  standing  figure.  I  can  assign  no  other  reason  for  this  ap- 
parition, than  that,  though  much  more  composed  in  my 
mind,  I  had  not  been  able  so  entirely  to  forget  the  cause  of 
such  deep  and  distressing  vexation,  and  had  reflected  on  the 
consequences  of  it,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  avoid  them;  and 
that  this  happened  three  hours  after  dinner,  at  the  time  when 
the  digestion  just  begins. 

"  At  length  I  became  more  composed,  with  respect  to  the 
disagreeable  incident  which  had  given  rise  to  the  first  appa- 
rition; but  though  I  had  used  very  excellent  medicines,  and 
found  myself  in  other  respects  perfectly  well,  yet  the  appa- 
ritions did  not  diminish;  on  the  contrary,  they  rather  in- 
creased in  number,  and  were  transformed  in  the  most  extra- 
ordinary manner. 

3  p 


482  Spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions. 

"  After  I  had  recovered  from  the  first  impression  of  terror, 
I  never  felt  myself  particularly  agitated  by  these  apparitions, 
as  I  considered  them  really  to  be  the  extraordinary  conse- 
quences of  indisposition.  On  the  contrary,  I  endeavoured  as 
much  as  possible  to  preserve  my  composure  of  mind,  that  I 
might  remain  distinctly  conscious  of  what  passed  within  me. 
I  observed  those  phantoms  with  great  accuracy,  and  very 
often  reflected  on  my  previous  thoughts,  with  a  view  to  dis- 
cover some  law  in  the  association  of  ideas,  by  which  exactly 
these  or  other  figures  might  present  themselves  to  the  ima- 
gination. Sometimes  I  thought  I  had  made  a  discovery, 
especially  in  the  latter  period  of  my  visions;  but,  on  the  whole, 
I  could  trace  no  connexion  which  the  various  figures,  that 
thus  appeared  and  disappeared  to  my  sight,  had  with  my 
state  of  mind,  or  with  my  employment,  and  the  other  thoughts 
which  engaged  my  attention.  After  frequent  accurate  obser- 
vations on  the  subject,  having  fairly  proved  and  maturely 
considered  it,  I  could  form  no  other  conclusion  on  the  cause 
and  consequence  of  such  apparitions,  than  that  when  the 
nervous  system  is  weak,  and  at  the  same  time  too  much  ex- 
cited, or  rather  deranged,  similar  figures  may  appear  in  such 
a  manner,  as  if  they  were  actually  seen  and  heard;  for  these 
visions  in  my  case,  were  not  the  consequence  of  any  known 
law  of  reason,  of  the  imagination,  or  other  usual  association 
of  ideas;  and  such  also  is  the  case  with  other  men,  as  far  as 
we  can  reason  from  the  few  examples  we  know. 

*'  The  figure  of  the  deceased  person  never  appeared  to  me 
after  this  dreadful  day:  but  several  other  figures  showed 
themselves  afterwards  very  distinctly;  sometimes  such  as  I 
knew,  mostly,  however,  of  persons  I  did  not  know;  and 
among  those  known  to  me,  were  the  semblance  of  both  living 
and  deceased  persons,  but  mostly  the  former;  and  I  made 
the  observation,  that  acquaintance  with  whom  I  daily  con- 
versed, never  appeared  to  me  as  phantoms;  it  was  always 
such  as  were  at  a  distance.     When  these   apparitions  had 


spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions.  483 

continued  some  weeks,  and  I  could  regard  them  with  the 
greatest  composure,  I  afterwards  endeavoured,  at  my  own 
pleasure,  to  call  forth  phantoms  of  several  acquaintance, 
whom  1  for  that  reason  represented  to  my  imagination,  in 
the  most  lively  manner,  but  in  vain;  for  however  accurately 
I  pictured  to  my  mind  the  figures  of  such  persons,  I  never 
once  could  succeed  in  my  desire  of  seeing  them  externally; 
though  I  had  some  short  time  before  seen  them  as  phan- 
toms, and  they  had,  perhaps,  afterwards  unexpectedly  pre- 
sented themselves  to  me  in  every  case  involuntarily,  as  if 
they  had  been  presented  externally,  like  the  phenomena  in 
nature,  though  they  certainly  had  their  origin  internally;  at 
the  same  time  I  was  always  able  to  distinguish  with  the 
greatest  precision,  phantoms  from  phenomena.  Indeed  I  ne- 
ver once  erred  in  this,  as  I  was  in  general  perfectly  calm  and 
self-collected  on  the  occasion.  I  knew  extremely  well,  when 
it  only  appeared  to  me  that  the  door  was  opened,  and  a  phan- 
tom entered,  and  when  the  door  really  was  opened,  and  any 
person  came  in, 

"  It  is  also  to  be  noted,  that  these  figures  appeared  to  me  at 
all  times,  and  under  the  most  different  circumstances,  equal- 
ly distinct  and  clear.  Whether  I  was  alone  or  in  company, 
by  broad  day-light,  or  in  the  night-time,  in  my  own,  or  in 
my  neighbour's  house;  only  when  I  was  at  another  person's 
house  they  were  less  frequent:  and  when  I  walked  the  street, 
they  very  seldom  appeared.  When  I  shut  my  eyes,  some- 
times the  figures  disappeared;  sometimes  they  remained, 
even  after  I  closed  them.  If  they  vanished  in  the  former 
case,  on  opening  my  eyes  again,  nearly  the  same  figures  ap- 
peared which  I  had  seen  before. 

"  I  sometimes  conversed  with  my  physician  and  my  wife, 
concerning  the  phantoms  which  at  the  time  hovered  round 
me;  for  in  general  the  forms  appeared  oftenerin  motion  than 
at  rest.  They  did  not  always  continue  present;  they  frequent- 
ly left  me  altogether,  and  again  appeared  for  a  short  or  a 


484  Spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions. 

longer  space  of  time,  singly  or  more  at  once;  but  in  general, 
several  appeared  together.  For  the  most  part,  I  saw  hu- 
man figures  of  both  sexes;  they  commonly  passed  to  and  fro 
as  if  thev  had  no  connexion  with  each  other,  like  people  at 
a  fair  when  all  is  bustle,  sometimes  they  appeared  to  have 
business  with  one  another.  Once  or  twice  I  saw  among  them 
persons  on  horseback,  and  dogs  and  birds;  these  figures  all 
appeared  to  me  in  their  natural  size,  as  distinctly  as  if  they 
had  existed  in  real  life,  with  the  several  tints  on  the  unco- 
vered parts  of  the  body,  and  with  all  the  different  kinds  and 
colours  of  clothes.  But  I  think,  however,  that  the  colours 
were  somewhat  paler  than  they  are  in  nature. 

"  None  of  the  figures  had  any  distinguishing  characters; 
they  were  neither  terrible,  ludicrous,  nor  repulsive;  most  of 
them  were  ordinary  in  their  appearance;  some  were  even 
agreeable. 

"  On  the  whole,  the  longer  I  continued  in  this  state,  the 
more  did  the  number  of  phantoms  increase,  and  apparitions 
become  more  frequent.  About  four  weeks  after,  I  began  to 
hear  them  speak;  sometimes  the  phantoms  spoke  with  one 
another;  but  for  the  most  part  they  addressed  themselves  to 
me,  and  endeavoured  to  console  me  in  my  grief,  which  still 
left  deep  traces  in  my  mind.  This  speaking  I  heard  most 
frequently  when  I  was  alone,  though  I  sometimes  heard  it 
in  company,  intermixed  with  the  conversation  of  real  per- 
sons; frequently  in  single  phrases  only,  but  sometimes  even 
in  connected  discourse. 

*'  Though  at  this  time  I  enjoyed  rather  a  good  state  of 
health,  both  in  body  and  mind,  and  had  become  so  very  fa- 
miliar with  these  phantasms,  that  at  last  they  did  not  excite 
the  least  disagreeable  emotion,  but,  on  the  contrary,  aftbrded 
me  frequent  subjects  for  amusement  and  mirth;  yet  as  the 
disorder  greatly  increased,  and  the  figures  appeared  to  me 
for  whole  days  together,  and  even  during  the  night,  if  I  hap- 


spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions.  485 

pened  to  be  awake,  I  had  recourse  to  several  medicines,  and 
was  at  last  again  obliged  to  apply  leeches. 

"  This  was  performed  on  the  20th  of  April,  at  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  forenoon.  I  was  alone  with  the  surgeon;  but  during 
the  operation,  the  room  swarmed  with  human  forms  of  eve- 
ry description,  which  crowded  fast  one  on  another:  this  con- 
tinued till  half  past  four  o'clock,  exactly  the  time  when  the 
digestion  commences.  I  then  observed  that  the  figures  be- 
gan to  move  slowly;  soon  afterwards  the  colours  became 
gradually  paler,  and  every  seven  minutes  they  lost  more  and 
more  of  their  intensity,  without  any  alteration  in  the  dis- 
tinct figure  in  the  apparitions.  At  half  past  six  o'clock  all 
the  figures  were  entirely  white,  and  moved  very  little,  yet 
the  forms  appeared  perfectly  distinct;  by  degrees  they  be- 
came visibly  kss  plain,  without  decreasing  in  number,  as 
had  often  formerly  been  the  case.  The  figures  did  not  move 
off,  neither  did  they  vanish,  which  also  had  usually  happened 
on  other  occasions.  In  this  instance  they  dissolved  immedi- 
ately in  air:  of  some,  even  whole  pieces  remained  for  a  length 
of  time,  which  also  by  degrees  were  lost  to  the  eye.  At 
about  eight  o'clock  there  did  not  remain  a  vestige  of  any  of 
them,  and  I  have  never  since  experienced  any  appearance 
of  any  kind.  Twice  or  thrice  since  that  time  I  have  felt  a 
propensity,  if  I  may  be  so  allowed  to  express  myself,  or  a 
sensation  as  if  I  saw  something,  which  in  a  moment  again 
was  gone.  I  was  even  surprised  by  this  sensation  whilst 
writing  the  present  account,  having,  in  order  to  render  it 
more  accurate,  perused  the  papers  of  1791,  and  recalled  to 
my  memory  all  the  circumstances  of  that  time.  So  little  are 
we  sometimes,  even  in  the  greatest  composure  of  mind,  mas- 
ters of  our  imagination." 

This  account  ought  to  be  perfectly  conclusive,  as  to  the 
true  theory  about  phenomena  of  this  nature,  and  ought  for- 
ever to  put  a  stop  to  all  superstitious  delusions  in  regard  to 
spectral  visions  and  apparitions.     A  curious  query  concern- 


486  Spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions. 

ing  it,  however,  seems  naturally  to  arise  in  the  mind.  Could 
M.  Nicolai,  although  afflicted  with  the  same  comjilaint,  ever 
have  experienced  the  same  visions,  if  he  had  been  born  blind? 
We  are  assured  that  he  could  not,  but  we  mav  deduce  from 
these  facts  this  useful  and  important  reflection.  It  is  evi- 
dent, that  in  our  perception  of  the  oijtward  objects  of  sight, 
by  the  action  of  the  rays  of  light  upon  the  nervous  coat  and 
the  brain,  there  is  some  change  produced  upon  the  mind, 
which  enables  it  afterwards  to  occasion  those  objects  to  ap- 
pear to  be  present  when  they  are  really  not  so,  although  with- 
out this  previous  action  upon  the  mind,  it  could  not  have  a 
single  perception  of  the  kind.  Had  M.  Nicolai  been  blind 
from  his  birth,  not  one  of  :hese  spectres  could  have  been  ex- 
hibited to  him.  Our  perceptions,  therefore,  must  in  all  cases 
commence  in  the  action  of  outward  objects  upon  the  senses. 

But  besides  furnishing  us  with  a  key  that  completely  opens 
the  door  to  all  mysteries  of  this  kind,  from  experiments  of 
this  nature,  I  conceive  we  may  arrive  at  a  solution  of  two 
very  singular  facts  which  are  upon  record,  and,  of  course,  of 
all  events  of  a  similar  description;  I  mean  the  circumstances 
vv'hich  led  to  the  conversion  of  Constantine,  the  first  Roman 
emperor  who  embraced  Christianity,  and  of  colonel  Gardiner, 
a  distinguished  English  officer,  in  more  recent  times.  We 
shall  state  the  facts  which  are  related  in  both  these  cases, 
and  with  a  few  remarks  about  them  shall  conclude  this  ar- 
ticle. 

As  the  emperor  Constantine  the  Great  was  on  his  march 
to  attack  Maxentius,  his  rival  in  the  Roman  empire,  he  is 
said  to  have  been  led  to  embrace  Christianity  by  a  miracu- 
lous cross  displayed  to  him  in  the  air  at  noon  day,  with  this 
inscription  upon  it,  "  hac  vince,"  under  this  conquer. 

Without  supposing  with  some  writers  that  this  miraculous 
appearance  of  the  sign  of  the  cross,  was  a  mere  fiction  of 
Constantine,  resorted  to  as  an  artifice  by  which  to  animate 
his  troops  to  the   contest  which   was  approaching,  or  with 


spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions.  487 

Dr.  Mosheim,  the  learned  author  of  the  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory, that  it  was  displayed  to  the  emperor  only  in  a  dream, 
when  he  himself  solemnly  averred,  as  we  are  informed  by 
Eusebius,  that  it  took  place  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
army;  may  we  not  relieve  ourselves  from  the  difficulties 
which  have  been  raised  during  the  controversy  about  this 
matter,  by  concluding  that  the  emperor  was  himself  decei\'ed 
in  the  phenomenon  which  presented  itself  on  that  occasion 
to  his  view?  His  mind  must  have  been  in  a  state  of  deep 
solicitude  and  s\iffering,  not  only  about  the  general  affairs  of 
the  empire,  which  were  in  extreme  confusion  and  danger, 
but  more  especially  about  the  result  of  his  approaching  bat- 
tle with  Maxentius.  His  fate  and  that  of  the  empire  hung 
upon  the  issue  of  that  contest.  Agitated  and  disquieted  from 
conflicting  emotions,  probably  many  days  had  been  spent 
amidst  toils  and  anxiety,  and  his  nights  in  sleepless  vigi- 
lance. Religion  too,  it  seems,  had  some  considerable  share 
in  his  meditations.  The  contest  raged  between  the  pagans 
and  christians.  They  pursued  each  other  in  a  spirit  of  exter- 
mination. Constantine  had  as  yet  declared  himself  in  fa- 
vour of  neither  side.  He  was  anxiously  reflecting  upon 
the  matter.  In  this  state  of  mind  it  would  be  by  no 
means  unexampled,  if  any  extraordinary  appearance  in  the 
heavens,  a  solar  halo,  or  a  cloud  singularly  shaped  and  strong- 
ly illuminated  by  the  beams  of  the  sun,  had  been  mistaken 
by  him  for  a  miraculous  cross,  and  when  nature  presented 
to  him  the  outlines,  imagination  could  easily  fill  up  the 
details,  so  that  the  inscription  upon  the  cross,  hac  vince,  like 
the  pits  of  the  small-pox  in  the  face  of  the  lady  beforemen- 
tioned,  may  have  been  distinctly  perceptible.  This  solution 
of  the  matter  would  at  once  exonerate  the  emperor  from  the 
charge,  not  only  of  inventing  a  falsehood  to  accomplish  a 
great  purpose  at  the  time,  but  from  the  still  deeper  guilt  of 
coolly  and  solemnly  persevering  in  declaring  it  as  a  fact;  and 
at  the  same  time  account  for  the   circumstance  which  has 


488  Spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions. 

been  mentioned  as  a  difficulty  in  the  case,  viz.  that  although 
Eusebius  lived  in  the  time  of  Constantine,  and  might  have 
heard  the  story  from  many  other  persons  belonging  to  that  ar- 
my, who  were  alleged  to  have  been  present,  yet  he  rests  it 
sokly  upon  the  testimony  of  the  emperor.  It  is  more  than 
probable,  that  whatevermay  have  been  the  celestial  appearance 
exhibited  to  the  army,  none  of  them  saw  it  in  the  same  light 
with  their  emperor. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  same  Subject  Continued. 

Whatever  we  may  be  disposed  to  think  of  the  fact  re- 
lated, concerning  the  conversion  of  Constantine,  the  Roman 
emperor  to  Christianity,  and  I  have  thrown  out  the  explana- 
tion given  in  the  last  chapter,  merely  as  a  conjecture;  in  re- 
gard to  the  circumstances,  which  are  said  to  have  attended 
that  of  colonel  Gardiner,  I  think  no  rational  mind  should 
hesitate  in  forming  a  most  decided  opinion.  The  facts,  as 
stated  by  Dr.  Doddridge,  in  his  life  of  that  officer,  are  the 
following.  "  This  memorable  event,  (his  conversion)  happen- 
ed towards  the  middle  of  July,  1719;  but  I  cannot  be  exact 
as  to  the  day.  The  colonel  had  spent  the  evening,  and,  if  I 
mistake  not,  it  was  the  Sabbath,  in  some  gay  company,  and 
had  an  unhappy  assignation  with  a  married  woman,  of  what 
rank  or  qualitv  I  did  not  particularly  inquire,  whom  he  was 
to  attend  exactly  at  twelve.  The  company  broke  up  about 
eleven,  and  not  judging  it  convenient  to  anticipate  the  time 
appointed,  he  went  into  his  chamber  to  kill  the  tedious  hour, 
perhaps,  with  some  amusing  book,  or  some  other  way.  But 
it  very  accidentally  happened,  that  he  took  up  a  religious 
book,  which  his  good  mother  or  aunt,  had,  without  his  know- 
ledge, slipped  into  his  portmanteau.  It  was  called  the 
"  Christian  Soldier,  or  Heaven  taken  by  Storm."  Guessing 
by  the  title  of  it,  that  he  should  find  some  phrases  of  his 
own  profession  spiritualized,  in  a  manner  which  he  thought, 
might  afford  him  some  diversion,  he  resolved  to  dip  into  it; 
but  he  took  no  serious  notice  of  any  thing  he  read  in  it;  and 
yet  while  this  book  was  in  his  hand,  an  impression  was  made 

3  Q 


490  Spectral  Visio7\s  ami  Apparitions. 

upon  bis  mind,  perhaps,  God  only  knows  how,  which  drew 
after  it  a  train  of  the  most  important  const- quences.  There 
is,  indeed,  a  possibility,  that  while  he  was  sitting  in  this  at- 
titude, and  reading  in  this  careless  and  profane  manner,  he 
might  suddenly  have  fallen  asleep,  and  only  dreamt  of  what 
he  apprehended  he  saw.  But  nothing  can  be  more  certain 
than  that  when  he  gave  me  this  relation,  he  judged  himself 
to  have  been  as  broad  awake  during  the  whole  time,  as  he 
ever  was  in  any  part  of  his  life;  and  he  mentioned  it  to  me 
several  times  afterwards,  as  what  undoubtedly  passed,  not 
only  in  his  imagination,  but  before  his  eves. 

"  He  thought  he  saw  an  unusual  lilaze  of  light,  fall  on  the 
book  while  he  was  reading,  which  he  at  first  imagined  might 
happen  by  some  accident  in  the  candle.  But  lifting  up  his 
e}es,heapprehcnded tohisextnme  amazement,  thatthere  was 
before  him,  as  it  were,  suspended  in  the  air,  a  visiMe  re  pre- 
sentation of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  upon  the  cross,  surround- 
ed on  all  sides  with  a  glory;  and  was  impressed  as  if  a  voice, 
or  someihmg  equivalent  to  a  voice,  had  confie  to  him  to  this 
effect,  for  he  was  not  confident  as  to  the  very  words;  "  Oh! 
sinner,  did  I  suffer  this  lor  thee,  and  are  these  the  returns?" 
But  whether  this  were  an  audible  voice,  or  only  a  strong 
impression  on  his  mind  equally  striking,  he  did  noi  seem 
very  confident;  though  to  the  best  of  my  remembrance,  he 
rather  judged  it  to  be  the  former.  Struck  with  so  amazing 
a  phenomenon  as  this,  there  remained  hardly  any  life  in 
him,  so  that  he  sunk  down  in  the  arm-chair  in  which  he  sat, 
and  continued,  he  knew  not  exactly  how  long,  insensible; 
which  was  one  circumstance  that  made  me  several  times 
take  the  liberty  to  suggest,  that  he  might  possibly  be  all  this 
while  asleep,  but  however  that  was,  he  quickly  after  opened 
his  eyes,  and  saw  nothing  more  than  usual." 

The  circumstances  here  related,  were  the  Immediate  cause 
of  thai  iiai  py  change  which  took  place  afterwards  in  the  cha- 
racter avid  conduct  of  Col.  Gardiner,  when,  from  having  been 


spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions.  491 

a  profligate  in  morals,  and  a  scoffer  at  religion,  he  became  a 
sincere  and   truly  exemplary  christian.     That  he  really  be- 
lieved in  this  case  he   had   receiv-ed  a  supernatural  warning 
from  heaven,   and  a  miraculous  display   of  divine   power, 
there  can  be  little  doubt,  as  he  always   continued  through 
life  to  express  himself  to  that  effect;  but  that  he  was  entirely 
mistaken  in  his  conceptions  about  the  matter,  ought  scarcely 
to  be  made  a  doubt  among  those  who  are  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree acquainted  with  the  operations  and  laws  of  nature.     If 
Col.  Gardiner  had  the  body  of  the  Saviour  really  exhibited 
to  him  surrounded  by  a   blaze  of  glory,   and   heard  a  voice 
addressing  him,  it  was  a  miracle  of  a  piece  with  that  which 
was  wrought  in  the  conversion  of  St«  Paul,  when  on  his  way  to 
Damascus,  he  saw  a  light  from  heaven,  shining  round  about 
him,  above  the  brightness  of  the  sun,  and  at  the  same  time, 
heard  a  voice  saying  unto  him,  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutestthou 
me?    Now,  upon  those  principles  of  science  which   we  have 
before  established,  before  we  should  give  credit  to  the  testi- 
mony of  Col.    Gardiner,  when  he  alleges  that  a  miraculous 
interference  of  heaven  was  operated  in  his  behalf,  we  should 
require  of  him  to  prove  it  by  the  same  evidence  which  was 
exhibited  by  the  Apostle,  the  evidence  of  miracles,  the  only 
evidence  upon  which  such  allegations  can  ever  be  well  sub- 
stantiated.    That  Col.  Gardiner  had  a  most  happy  reforma- 
tion produced  in  his  conduct  by  this  transaction,  is  not  to  be 
denied,  and  a  subject  of  congratulation   and  rejoicing,  we 
trust  to  Angels  as  well  as  men;  but  his  change  of  habits  did 
not  pro\e  that  any  thing  extraordinary  took   place,  since  the 
same  alteration  in  his  views  and  deportment  would  have  been 
produced  by  his   belief  that  he  was  supernaturally  warned. 
Far  be  it  from  us,  to  attempt  to  limit  the  means  which  may 
be  employed  by  divine  grace,  to  effect  the  everlasting  salva- 
tion of  men.     It  may  accomplish   this  beneficial  purpose  as 
well  by  their  delusions  as  just  apprehensions  of  things.     In 
general,  however,  it  is   worthy  of  remark,  that  we  have  no 


492  Spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions. 

sufficient  reason  to  believe  that  the  Creator,  in  accomplish- 
ing his  purposes  of  mercy  and  grace,  ever  departs  from  the 
ordinary  course  of  his  providence,  except  for  the  attainment 
of  extraordinary  ends,  and  in  all  such  cases  he  never  fails  to 
deal  with  us  as  rational  and  intelligent  beings,  and  furnishes 
our  understandings  with  satisfactory  proofs  of  his  immediate 
interference.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  when  the  sentiments 
of  religion  among  mankind  are  allowed  to  be  tinctured  and 
debased  by  superstition.  Religion  never  yet  derived  any  ad- 
vantage, but  the  most  serious  mischief,  from  her  connection 
with  superstition,  and  never  will  derive  any.  One  half  the 
infidelity  which  has  prevailed  in  France  for  some  centuries 
past,  may  be  ascribed  to  the  errors  in  doctrine,  the  mumme- 
ries and  superstitious  observances  in  practice  of  the  church 
of  Rome.  By  these  means  a  prejudice  is  excited  in  the 
minds  of  intelligent  and  reflecting  men  against  Christianity 
itself,  in  as  much  as  they  have  not  learnt  to  separate  in  their 
imagination,  the  pure  and  holy  religion  of  the  Saviour,  from 
that  monstrous  mass  of  absurdities  and  follies,  under  which, 
as  a  disguise,  it  invariably  presents  itself  to  their  vievv.  In 
our  happy  country,  let  us  endeavour  to  obtain  the  pure  and 
heavenly  religion  of  the  Saviour,  undefiled  by  the  errors  and 
misconceptions  of  fanaticism  and  superstition. 

With  these  preliminary  observations  to  guard  against  a 
misconstruction  of  our  motives  and  object,  we  proceed  to 
show  in  what  manner  Col.  Gardiner  might  have  been  mis- 
taken; in  his  conceptions  about  the  facts  that  led  to  his  re- 
formation. He  appears,  from  the  account  which  is  given  of 
him  by  Dr.  Doddridge,  to  have  been  a  man  of  strong  natu- 
ral parts  and  ardent  sensibilities;  and  however  at  an  early 
period  of  life,  he  outraged  by  his  conduct  the  precepts  of 
Christianity,  to  have  been  by  no  means  able  to  stifle  the  im- 
pressions of  religion,  which  he  had  received  in  early  life  from 
a  pious  mother  and  aunt.  The  seeds  which  they  had  sown 
in  his  heart,   he   could  never  entirely  eradicate   amidst  his 


spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions .  493 

greatest  irregularities,  for  they  found  a  happy  soil  in  which 
to  shoot  forth  in  his  natural  temperament  and  dispositions. 
He  is  repeatedly  overtaken  by  remorse  and  terror,  amidst  his 
career  of  guilt  and  Jolly.  The  apprehensions  of  rt  ligion  for 
a  time  take  possession  of  his  mind,  but  are  soon  again  allay- 
ed by  the  charms  of  sensual  pleasure,  or  the  ridicule  of  his 
licentious  companions.  With  a  mind  thus  subject  to  occa- 
sional paroxysms  of  apprehension  and  disquietude  about 
the  interests  of  his  immortal  part,  dissatisfied  with  the  ca- 
reer in  which  he  was  engaged,  but  so  enchained  by  sin  as  to 
be  unable  to  extricate  himself,  we  find  him,  on  this  occasion, 
engaged  in  profane  revelry  with  his  associates,  and  having 
entered  into  a  criminal  assignation,  and  that  too  in  violation 
of  the  most  sacred  rights  of  his  neighbour,  waiting  with  the 
full  purpose  of  adding  to  all  the  other  sins  that  weighed  up- 
on his  conscience,  the  foul  crime  of  adultery.  Passing  from 
the  scene  of  banqueting  and  merriment,  heated  with  wine 
and  surfeited  with  food,  he  determines  to  spend  the  hour 
which  was  left  him  for  reflection,  in  reading  some  author 
whose  sentiments  should  accord  with  his  present  feelings, 
v/ho  should  encourage  him  in  his  criminal  pursuits  by  forti- 
fying his  mind  with  the  doubts  of  sophistry,  or  stimulating 
his  passions  by  unholy  pictures.  He  opens  his  portmanteau 
to  obtain  an  author  suited  to  his  purpose.  Instead  of  meet- 
ing with  such  a  production  as  he  desired,  he  finds  a  religious 
treatise.  The  view  of  it  gives  him  a  sudden  shock,  and  a 
new  train  of  reflection  passes  rapidly  through  his  mind,  his 
former  and  half-extinguished  fires  of  remorse  are  excited. 
He  resists  them,  as  much  as  possible,  and  in  order  to  stifle 
the  painful  emotions  which  were  springing  up,  he  determines 
to  make  a  sport  even  of  sacred  things.  He  commences  read- 
ing with  this  profane  view.  His  ideas,  however,  in  spite  of 
himself  begin  now  to  run  in  a  new  channel.  He  thinks  of 
the  interests  of  his  immortal  spirit,  of  the  redemption  of  the 
Saviour,  of  his  own  guilt  and  miserable  prospects  in  future. 


494  aptctral  Visions  and  Apparitions. 

The  contrast  between  his  emotions,  while  engaged  in  ban- 
queting and  merriment  a  few  moments  before,  and  his  pre- 
sent train  of  reflections,  only  brings  more  pungently  home  to 
his  bosom  those  serious  and  solemn  truths  he  is  now  con- 
templating. Overcome,  however,  with  heaviness  from  his 
previous  feast,  if  he  does  not  fall  into  a  complete  sleep,  he 
sinks  into  that  unconscious  state  of  being,  in  which  the  sen- 
ses are  partially  closed  against  the  impressions  of  outward 
objects,  and  in  which,  if  the  soul  be  not  infested  with  dreams, 
it  reposes  for  a  moment  from  its  unceasing  toil  of  thinking. 
In  this  unconscious  state  he  remains  a  short  space,  but  sud- 
denly awakes;  and  in  that  state  of  alarm  and  trepidation 
which  we  all  experience  when  suddenly  roused  from  a  state 
of  slumber.  In  this  alarmed  state  of  the  mind,  when  its 
fears  alone  po  sess  it,  and  reason  has  not  power  to  come  in 
to  its  aid,  and  support  him  by  its  sceptical  doubts  and  diffi- 
culties, the  train  of  reflections  upon  the  subjects  of  religion, 
into  which,  in  spite  of  his  endeavours,  he  had  been  thrown 
by  his  book,  rush  suddenly  upon  the  mind.  His  half  open- 
ed eyes,  makes  the  light  of  the  candle  assume  the  appear- 
ance of  an  unusual  blaze,  as  all  of  us  have  experienced  at 
times  when  suddenly  awaking.  The  wholesome  fears  ol  re- 
ligion are  soon  converted  into  superstitious  terrors.  He  im- 
agines he  perceives  a  supernatural  light,  and  is  chilled  with 
indefinable  horrors.  His  mind  is  now  confused,  and  in  its 
agitation  occasions  an  unusual  excitement  and  irregular  ac- 
tion of  the  nervous  system.  The  same  efi"ect  is  produced 
upon  the  optick  nerves  and  the  ear,  as  if  the  image  of  Christ 
upon  the  cross  was  before  his  eye,  and  sounds  assailed 
his  ear. 

This  is  the  account  which  philosophy  can  give  of  this  mat- 
ter, and  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  true  one.  There  is  no- 
thing more  difficult  in  conceiving  Col.  Gardiner  thus  to  have 
been  deceived  in  the  agitation  of  his  mind,  than  in  conceiv- 
ing the  manner  in  which  the  lady  at  Trenton  could  suppose 


spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions.  495 

her  friend  whom  she  had  lost  to  be  immediately  before  her, 
and  that  she  traced  the  very  pits  of  the  small-pox  in  her 
face.  The  claims  of  lord  Lyttleton  to  having  seen  his  mo- 
ther, who  foretold  the  time  of  his  death,  are  as  good  as  those 
of  Col.  Gardiner,  to  having  seen  the  image  of  his  Saviour, 
and  having  heard  a  Supernatural  voice,  and  surelv  no  philo- 
sopher can  doubt  that  the  first  is  to  be  ascribed  to  nervous 
delusion. 

The  solution  which  we  have  furnished  above  of  the  facts 
relative  to  the  conversion  of  Col.  Gardiner,  is  substantiated 
by  all  the  circumstances  connected  with  them,  when  rightly 
understood.  He  was  in  a  state  of  repletion  and  heaviness, 
from  the  enjoyment  of  his  previous  entertainment,  and  on 
this  account  would  be  inclined  to  sleep.  Passing  from  a 
scene  of  noise  and  conviviality,  he  went  into  solitude  and  si- 
lence, and  began  the  perusal  of  a  serious  book,  which  to  a 
mind  uninterested  in  the  great  truths  of  religion,  although 
constitutionally  alive,  at  intervals,  to  a  sense  of  its  impor- 
tance, v/ould  have  a  tendency  also  to  induce  drowsiness. 
These  considerations  should  lead  us  to  the  conclusion,  that 
although  he  was  not  in  a  deep  sleep,  the  idea  of  which  he 
strongly  repelled,  declaring  that  he  was  as  broad  awake  du- 
ring the  whole  time,  as  he  ever  was  in  his  life,  yet  that 
he  was  in  that  state  of  existence  denominated  dosing,  of  which 
we  are  insensible  at  the  time,  and  when  awakened  out  of  it 
cannot  be  convinced  that  we  were  even  partially  asleep. 
That  he  was  in  this  partial  slumber,  seems  to  be  still  more 
strongly  confirmed,  by  the  account  which  he  himself  gave  of 
the  voice  that  he  supposed  he  heard,  for  he  was  not  very 
confident,  whether  it  was  an  audible  voice,  or  only  a  strong 
impression  made  upon  his  mind  equally  striking.  This  con- 
fusion in  his  statement  shows,  that  he  was  not  in  the  sound 
and  full  enjoyment  of  his  faculties. 

Again,  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case  favoured  adelusion 
of  the  senses  in  this  instance.    Colonel  Gardiner  was  excited 


496  Spectral  VisioJis  and  Apparitions. 

by  previous  indulgence  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table.  He 
had  entered  into  a  criminal  assignation,  and  was  conscious 
he  was  about  to  do  his  neighbour  the  greatest  of  all  injuries, 
violate  his  conscience  and  offend  his  God.  A  new  turn 
was  given  to  his  thoughts  by  his  religious  book.  Conscience 
was  roused  and  began  to  smite  him,  and  our  feelings  are 
never  so  pungent  as  when  we  pass  from  one  extreme  to  ano- 
ther. If  we  have  any  of  the  dying  embers  of  piety  in  the 
heart,  they  are  never  so  apt  to  be  kindled  anew  as  when  we 
are  on  the  eve  of  some  horrible  crime.  The  soul  is,  then, 
alive  to  all  the  acutest  compunctions  of  conscience.  Colonel 
Gardiner  falls  into  a  partial  slumber.  Oppressed  with  his 
previous  banquet,  the  crudities  of  indigested  food  disturb 
his  slumbers.  He  starts  up  suddenly,  and  the  candle  throw- 
ing its  glare  of  light  in  his  face,  his  mind  glances  with  the 
rapidity  of  lightning  along  that  succession  of  ideas  with 
which  it  had  been  occupied  in  reading  his  book,  and  he  con- 
verts that  light  into  supernatural  illumination,  while  a  dis- 
tinct image  conjured  up  by  his  fears  is  presented  to  his  eye, 
and  unreal  sounds  assail  his  ear.  In  all  this  we  perceive 
nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  laws  of  human  nature.  From 
such  views  as  these  let  the  happy  moral  effect  be  produced 
upon  our  mind,  of  purging  it  by  philosophy  from  supersti- 
tious fears.  Religion  has  a  sufficiently  pungent  and  power- 
ful effect  upon  the  heart  and  life,  when  its  doctrines  are  re- 
ceived in  their  native  purity  and  vigour,  without  requiring 
any  reinforcement  from  such  a  questionable  source,  to  ac- 
complish its  benign  purpose,  in  ameliorating  the  condition, 
controlling  the  passions,  and  promoting  the  eternal  salvation 
of  mankind.  Those  who  allow  themselves  to  be  disturbed 
by  idle  fears  of  ghosts,  apparitions,  ominous  dreams,  frightful 
sights,  sounds  indicative  of  future  evil,  and  all  the  wretched 
trumpery  of  ignorance  and  blind  credulity,  do  as  much  dis- 
honour to  their  religion,  as  to  the  dignity  of  their  own  nature. 
It  is  not  by  starts  and  convulsive  struggles,  that  the    divine 


spectral  Visions  and  Apparitions.  497 

grace  draws  us  towards  God  and  our  supreme  good,  but  by 
as  regular,  uniform  and  invariable  laws,  as  those  by  which 
the  planets  are  moved  in  their  spheres.  Let  us  not  form 
low  and  unworthy  conceptions  of  the  Creator,  but  endea- 
vour to  elevate  our  thoughts  to  the  dignity  and  the  benefi- 
cence of  his  nature,  as  well  as  the  full  extent  of  that  compre- 
hensive scheme  of  providence  which  he  has  established  over 
the  universe.  His  kingdom  ruleth  over  all,  and  under  the 
operation  ot  those  laws  by  which  he  governs  the  world,  the 
righteous  shall  surely  be  rewarded,  and  the  wicked  punish- 
ed; but  his  government  is  steady  and  immutable,  not  consist- 
ing of  temporary  expedients,  and  irregular  efforts  of  autho- 
rity. Ever  since  those  stupendous  exercises  of  omnipotent 
power  which  were  made  from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  in 
the  Patriarchal,  Mosaic,  and  Christian  dispensation,  for  the 
introduction  and  final  establishment  of  our  religion,  the  or- 
der of  grace  has  been  subjected  to  as  regular  and  invariable 
laws,  as  the  departments  of  the  physical,  or  moral  world. 


6   R 


CHAPTER  X. 

Of  Discernment,   Judgment,   Wit,  Attention,  Inten- 
sion, &LC. 


Aftrr  the  power  of  perception,  and  thinking  in  general, 
the  next  faculty  of  the  mind  which  claims  our  notice,  is  that 
of  discernment,  by  which  is  meant  that  power  by  which  we 
are  able  to  discriminate  our  perceptions  and  thoughts  from 
each  other,  or  rather  those  objects  and  qualities,  either  in 
the  external  or  internal  world,  which  .present  themselves  to 
the  contemplation  of  the  mind.  A  mere  dim  perception 
of  the  existence  of  things  without  us,  or  of  the  operations  of 
the  soul  within,  would  be  but  a  dull  and  undesirable  state  of 
being,  when  compared  with  that  which  is  enjoyed  by  man, 
who  has  his  curiosity  kept  perpetually  excited,  and  his  feel- 
ings interested  by  the  variety  of  objects,  each  differing  in 
some  degree  from  the  other,  continually  offering  themselves 
to  his  view.  This  discernment  of  objects  and  qualities,  no 
doubt,  becomes  more  acute  in  proportion  as  animals  are  ele- 
vated in  the  scale  of  being.  In  those  of  the  lowest  grade  it 
can  scarcely  be  extended  beyond  those  instinctive  percep- 
tions of  their  food,  drink,  and  other  objects  which  are  indis- 
pensably necessary  to  their  comfort  and  preservation.  In 
man  this  faculty  of  discernment,  commencing  its  operations 
with  his  first  and  simplest  sensations  about  the  things  with 
which  he  is  conversant,  is  strengthened  and  matured  by  ex- 
ercisej  until  at  length  when  the  understanding  is   cultivated 


500  Of  Discernment^  Judgment^  Wit^ 

and  enlarged  by  science  and  study,  it  is  sharpened  into  a 
deep  insight  into  the  whole  complicated  structure  and  ope- 
rations of  nature.  He  who  possesses  and  has  cultivated  this 
power,  perceives  objects  in  nature  that  lie  concealed  from 
the  vulgar;  discriminates  those  which  would  be  confounded 
by  others,  and  looks  with  a  keener  vision  upon  every  de- 
partment both  of  the  physical  and  moral  world.  Commen- 
cing its  operations  in  enabling  us  to  distinguish  the  differ- 
ent colours,  tastes,  smells,  sounds,  together  with  the  various 
acts  of  the  mind,  it  afterwards  looks  around  with  penetra- 
ting sight  upon  the  face  of  nature,  discovering  its  beauties 
and  deformities,  separating  the  true  from  the  false  causes 
which  are  assigned  for  its  effects,  revealing  to  us  the  sound 
from  the  unsound,  in  propositions  and  reasonings,  inferring 
tKe  characters  and  dispositions  of  mankind,  from  the  ex- 
pressions of  their  countenances,  disclosing  to  us  the  excel- 
lencies and  blemishes  in  style  and  composition,  together  with 
a  finished  and  imperfect  execution  in  the  arts.  With  the 
operations  of  this  power  of  discernment,  are- intimately  con- 
nected those  of  attention,  intension,  and  judgment. 

Attention  implies  that  notice  which  the  mind  pays  to  the 
several  objects  that  come  under  its  tevi«w,  when  it  not  only 
cursorily  surveys  them,  but  dwells  upon  them  by  voluntary 
choice.  Intension,  or  study,  is  that  act  of  the  mind,  by 
which  we  fasten  its  notice  upon  any  subject  still  more  deep- 
ly,'so  as  to  investigate  it  fully;  survey  it  on  all  sides,  and  ex- 
amine it  with  the  minutest  scrutiny.  Judgment  is  that  pow- 
er by  whicli,  without  going  through  the  operose  process  of 
reasoning,  we  form  just  estimates  of  the  order  and  succes- 
sion of  things  around  us,  the  characters  and  conduct  of  man- 
kind, the  probable  results  of  measures  proposed  to  be  adopt- 
ed; and  in  fine,  which,  in  the  absence  of  demonstrative  evi- 
dence, enables  us  to  decide  upon  probabilities.  Judgment, 
therefore,  it  will  be  seen,  implies  a  previous  exercise  of  the 
powers  of  attention  and  of  discernment,  and  is  most  inti- 


Attention^  Intension^  See.  501 

mately  connected  with  the  latter,  which  it  always  presuppo- 
ses, but  nevertheless  extends   beyond  it.     A   man  possessed 
of  a  good  judgment,  must  not  only  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
discriminating  his  perceptions  and  ideas  from  each,  so  as  to 
prevent  confusion  among  them;   but  must  also  have  been  a 
nice  observer  of  causes  and  effects,  the  characters  and  con- 
duct of  mankind,  together  with  all  those  motives  which  usu- 
ally influence  their  actions.     Mr.  Locke,   with  satisfactory 
clearness  and  justness  of  conception  has  explained,  upo^  the 
principles  of  human  nature,  that  ordinary  maxim,   that  men 
who  have   the   readiest  wit  have  not  generally  the  clearest 
judgment,  or  most  profound  reason.    The  solution  which  he 
offers   for   this   common  observation,  is,  that  wit  and  judg- 
ment imply  two  opposite  exercises  of  the  mind.      Wit  con- 
sists, for  the  most  part,  in  tracing  among  objects  unexpect- 
ed  similitudes  or    incongruities,  by  which    agreeable    pic- 
tures are  framed  to  amuse  the  fancy;  while  j\idgroent,  on  the 
other  hand,   performs  the  opposite   function  of  discrimina- 
ting objects  with  nicety  from  each  other,  so  as  not  to  be  im- 
posed upon  by  distant  similitudes,  or  the  appearance  of  cor- 
respondence.     He,    therefore,   who  takes  great  delight  in 
pursuing  those  similitudes  and  contrasts,  with  which  he  can 
entertain  and  enrich  his  fancy,  will  not  be  likely  to  excel  in 
making  those  distinctions   and  separations   of  his   ideas,  in 
which  consists  the  exercise  of  his  discernment  and  judgment. 
This   explanation  of  Mr.   Locke,  is  just  and  satisfactory. 
There  is  no    one,  indeed,   who  can   greatly   excel  as  a  wit 
without  some    degree  of  judgment,  nor  is    it  probable  that 
there  is  any  one  who  is  entitled  to   the  reputation  of  a  man 
of  profound  judgment,  who  does  not  in  some  degree  possess 
a  talent  for  tracing  those  unexpected    resemblances  and  con- 
trasts, which  afford  such  lively   entertainment   to  the   mind. 
The  character  of  the  mind,  however,  will  be  determined  by 
the  general  prevalence  of  the  one  tendency  or  the  other;  and 
so  limited  in  their  nature  are  the  human  faculties,  that  he 


502  Of  Discernment^  Judgment^  Wity 

who  strongly  inclines  to  the  indulgence  of  the  one  exercise 
of  his  mind,  will  scarcely  ever  be  found  greatly  to  excel  in 
the  other.  This  view  of  the  subject  may  serve  also  to  ex- 
plain the  observation  of  Mr.  Burke,  that  the  study  of  the 
law,  at  the  same  time  that  it  tends  to  sharpen  the  intellectual 
powers,  and  render  the  judgment  more  acute,  does  not  tend, 
in  the  same  degree,  to  liberalize  the  mind,  and  enlarge  its 
comprehension.  This  is  certainly  the  case,  and  arises  from 
the  circumstance,  that  the  science  of  jurisprudence,  and  the 
study  of  the  law,  consist  almost  solely  in  making  nice  dis- 
tinctions, and  separating  from  each  other  thoae  ideas  which 
seem  to  be  nearly  related;  that  the  discernment  and  judg- 
ment are  almost  the  only  powers  exerted  in  the  prosecution 
of  them;  and  of  course,  while  those  powers  are  vigorously 
exercised,  and  greatly  whetted,  the  mind  is  not  likely  to  be 
furnished  with  any  of  those  intermediate  ideas,  that  can  con- 
duct it  through  a  series  of  conclusions  in  the  other  branches 
of  science,  or  with  those  agreeable  pictures  and  images,  with 
which  the  poet  and  fine  writer,  entertain  the  imagination. 
Nothing,  however,  can  contribute  more  efF  ctually  to  give 
clearness,  precision  and  accuracy  to  our  conceptions,  than 
the  study  of  the  law,  or  afford  a  better  preparation  for  the 
successful  prosecution  of  the  more  abstruse  sciences,  if  the 
pleader  can  find  time  from  his  entangling  occupations  to  turn 
his  attention  to  them. 

One  of  the  most  important  acquisitions  for  those  who  wish 
to  render  themselves  distinguished  for  their  attainments  in 
science,  their  skill  in  the  arts,  or  for  a  sound  and  deep  insight 
into  the  affairs  of  mankind,  is  an  early  and  patient  habit  of 
attention,  to  whatever  subject  at  the  time  is  presented  to  their 
consideration.  The  habit  of  close  and  intense  thinking,  which 
is  almost  always  to  be  acquired  by  care  and  assiduity,  al- 
though it  is  probable  by  some  persons  Vrith  greater,  and  by 
others  with  less  difficulty,  is  the  cause  of  those  great  distinc- 
tions which  are  found   amongst  men,  rather  than   any  mate- 


Attentton^  Intension^  8tc.  508 

irial  differences  in  their  natural  endowments.  Some  persons, 
indeed,  may  be  incapable  of  this  nice  and  discriminating  at- 
tention, from  the  original  dullness  and  imperfection  in  their 
organs  of  perception,  and  faculties  of  thinking;  but  many 
more  are  rendered  so  by  a  culpable  neglect  and  indifference 
as  to  the  cultivation  of  their  powers  of  discernment,  or  by 
that  precipitate  and  hurried  manner  with  which  they  review 
every  object  that  presents  itself  to  their  consideration.  New- 
ton, when  asked  by  what  means  it  was,  that  he  was  enabled  so 
far  to  surpass  other  men  in  his  attainments  and  discoveries 
in  science,  replied,  that  he  did  not  consider  any  thing  which 
he  had  done,  so  much  the  result  of  any  superiority  in  his 
natural  parts,  as  of  the  habit  of  attention  which  he  had  con- 
tracted in  early  life.  This  is  the  grand  secret  by  which  he 
accomplished  such  wonders;  and  it  is  a  secret,  of  the  full 
importance  of  which  it  deeply  concerns  the  student  to  be  ap- 
prised. By  means  of  this  habit  of  close  attention,  early  con- 
tracted and  pertinaciously  pursued,  there  are  no  limits  to  be 
set  to  the  acquisitions  which  might  be  made,  even  by  mode- 
rate talents  and  endowments.  It  is  by  this  that  the  painter, 
the  sculptor,  the  poet  and  fine  writer,  are  able  so  far  to  ex- 
tend the  acquired  perceptions  of  their  "  mental  eye,"  as  to 
have  the  whole  compass  of  nature  with  the  minutest  and 
nicest  springs  in  its  vast  machinery,  at  a  single  glance  un- 
folded to  their  view.  If  we  narrowly  examine  the  conduct 
and  feelings  of  children  when  they  are  first  beginning  to 
learn,  we  shall  find  that  their  great  difficulty  consists  in  ob- 
taining the  power  of  fixing  their  attention;  and  when  this 
habit  is  completely  formed,  the  great  work  of  their  education, 
as  far  as  it  depends  upon  the  assistance  they  can  derive  from 
instructors,  is  accomplished. 

We  should  here  have  concluded  our  observations  on  the 
subject  of  attention,  did  we  not  feel  it  incumbent  on  us,  ac- 
cording to  our  original  plan,  to  undertake  the  refutation  of 
some  errors  into  which  professor  Stewart  has  fallen  in  his 
dissertation  upon  it.     We  think  it  would  be  difficult  to  find 


504  Of  Dtscernment,  Judgment^  Wtty 

in  any  author  more  errors  comprised  in  so  short  a  compass, 
than  there  arc  in  this   dissertation,  while,  at  the  same  time, 
those  errors  are  recommended  by  an  artifice  of  language  and 
plausibility  of  argument  and  illustration,  well   calculated  to 
impose  upon  the  understandings  of  those  who  are   slightly 
conversant   with   the  science  of  the  human   mind,  but  have 
never  taken  the  pains   fully  to  investigate  it.     In  the   first 
place,  the  professor  asserts,  in  his   remarks  upon   attention, 
"  that  he  does  not  recollect  that   the  power  of  attention  has 
been  mentioned  by   any  of  the  writers  on   pneumatology  in 
their  enumeration  of  the  faculties  of  the  mind."    Is  not  this 
assertion  somewhat  singular  for  a  writer,  who,  in  this  very 
essay,  refers  several  times   to  the  treatise  of  Mr.  Locke? 
Now  Mr.   Locke,  in  treating  of  what  he   denominates  the 
simple  modes  of  thinking,  says;*  "  when  the  ideas  that  offer 
themselves  are  taken  notice  of  by  the  mind,  and,  as  it  were, 
registered  in  the  memory,  it   is   attention."     Is  not  this  to 
enumerate  attention  among  the  operations  of  the  mind;  and 
of  course  recognising  in  our   constitution  a  power  by  which 
that  operation  is  performed?     It  may  not,  indeed,  have  been 
as  fully  considered  and  examined  as  its  importance  deserves; 
for  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  upon  none  of  our   powers, 
save  reason  itself,  does   our  progress  in  all   kinds   of  know- 
ledge more  materially  depend.     The  habit  of  closely  attend- 
ing to  his  nicest  perceptions,  and   marking  with  the  greatest 
accuracy  all  the  qualities  and  shades   of  difference   between 
the   various   objects  he   converses  with,  forms  one   of  the 
greatest  distinctions  between  the  philosopher  and  the  vulgar. 
He,  who,  frqm  the  earliest  period  of  life,  shall  form  a  deter- 
mination to  obtain  distinct  and   accurate  ideas   about  every 
thing  presented  to  his  inspection,  or  contemplation,  whether 
it  be  an  important  fact  or   anecdote  recorded  in  history,  an 
interesting  sentiment  or  description  in  a  fine  writer,  or  a 

*  Book  2,  chap.  19.  Treatise  upon  Understanding. 


Attention^  Intension,  &c.  505 

masterly  argument  and  train  of  reasoning,  will  be  able  to  at- 
tain by  gradual  accumulations,  an  extent  of  information,  a 
justness  of  conception  and  a  dep*h  of  penetration,  of  which  in 
the  commencement  he  had  no  idea.  But  to  proceed  with  our 
professor.  Perhaps  when  he  asserts  that  no  writer  upon 
pneumatology  had  enumerated  attention  among  the  powers 
of  the  mind,  he  does  not  mean  the  same  kind  of  attention  as 
that  act  or  power  alluded  to  by  Mr.  Locke.  This  would 
seem  to  be  inferable  from  his  own  expressions.  "  Helvetius, 
indeed,"  proceeds  the  professor,  "  in  his  very  ingenious 
work,  de  L'esprit,  (so  he  calls  that  mass  of  crudities)  has 
entitled  one  of  his  chapters,  De  I'inegale  capacite  d'atten- 
Vion;  but  what  he  considers  under  this  article,  is  chiefly  that 
capacity  of  patient  inquiry,  upon  which  philosophical  genius 
seems  in  a  great  measure  to  depend.  He  has  remarked  with 
the.  writers  already  mentioned,  that  the  impression  which  any 
thing  makes  on  the  memory  depends  much  on  the  degree  of 
attention  we  give  it;  but  he  has  taken  no  notice  of  that  ef- 
fort which  is  absolutely  essential  to  the  lowest  degree  of 
memory.  It  is  this  effort  that  I  propose  to  consider  at  pre- 
sent; not  those  different  degrees  of  attention  which  imprint 
things  more  or  less  deeply  on  the  mind;  but  that  actor  effort 
without  which  we  have  no  recollection  or  memory  whatever." 
Here  we  perceive  that  the  professor  proposes  to  treat,  not  as 
others  had  done,  of  that  power  or  act  of  the  mind  denomi- 
nated attention,  but  we  are  led  to  expect  that  we  shall  find 
disclosed  to  us  what  we  had  before  considered  as  one  of  the 
secrets  of  nature,  that  act  or  effort  without  which  we  have 
no  recollection  or  memory  whatever;  or  in  other  words, 
what  is  the  least  degree  of  attention  which  must  be  paid  to 
any  thing  by  the  mind,  before  we  shall  be  able  to  recollect 
it.  Upon  the  first  propounding  of  this  subject  of  inquiry, 
ihey,  who  are  accustomed  to  philosophical  speculations,  and 
are  acquainted  with  the  legitimate  objects  of  investigation 
to  the  human  mind^  would  be  inclined  shrewdly  to   suspect. 


506  Of  Discerriment^  Judgment^  Wit, 

that  this  is  a  matter  utterly  beyond  the  reach  of  our  limited 
faculties;  and  that  to  propose  to  ascertain  what  degree  of  at- 
tention must  be  paid  to  any  ijf  our  thoughts  and  perceptions, 
before  they  are  ripened  and  prepared  to  be  deposited  in  the 
storehouse  of  the  memory,  and  from  thence  to  be  drawn  out 
by  the  faculty  of  recollection,  would  resemble  very  much  an 
attempt  to  decide  what  degree  of  velleity,  or  smallest  tenden- 
cy in  the  will,  amounts  to  an  act  of  volition,  what  degree  of 
attachment  in  the  heart  is  equivalent  to  the  passion  of  love, 
or  to  express  the  matter  in  still  more  intelligible  phrase,  what 
degree  of  bodily  appetite  for  an  apple  will  induce  us  to  de- 
vour it.  Nevertheless,  notwithstanding  our  philosophical 
scruples  and  prepossessions  against  the  verysubject  of  inquiry, 
we  put  our  understandings  under  the  guidance  of  the  pro- 
fessor, and  although  inclined  to  believe  that  our  research 
must  be  fruitless,  are  willing  to  give  credit  to  any  discove- 
ries which  he  may  be  so  fortunate  as  to  make.  We  are  pre- 
pared to  expect  some  new  disclosure  of  the  secret  structure 
and  operations  of  nature.  In  this  matter,  however,  we  soon 
find  ourselves  greatly  disappointed.  It  is  a  custom  of  this 
writer,  as  I  doubt  not  has  been  often  remarked  by  his  intelli- 
gent readers,  always  to  have  on  hand  a  world  of  things  to  be 
done,  but  never  to  accomplish  any  thing.  When  he  takes  up 
any  subject,  he  goes  about  it,  and  about  it,  in  many  a  graceful 
circle,  but  scarcely  every  reaches  it.  After  our  expectation 
has  been  excited  of  witnessing  a  display  of  ingenuity  and  pro- 
found disquisition,  by  which  it  is  to  be  ascertained  that  act 
or  effort  of  attention,  which  is  absolutely  essential  to  the 
lowest  degree  of  memory,  in  the  very  next  paragraph  we  are 
informed,  "  that  with  respect  to  this  effort,  it  is  perhaps  im- 
possible to  obtain  much  satisfaction,  and  that  for  his  part, 
he  is  inclined  to  suppose  (though  he  would  by  no  means  be 
understood  to  speak  with  confidence,)  that  it  is  essential  to 
memory,  that  the  perception  or  the  idea  that  we  would  wish 
to  remember,  should  remain  in  the  mind  for  a  certain  space 
of  time,  and  should  be  contemplated  by  it  exclusively  of 


Attention,  Intension,  &c.  507 

every  thing  else."  Thus  we  have  arrived  at  our  conclusion, 
and  have  stumbled  upon  the  grand  and  unexpected  discovery, 
that  in  order  that  we  should  be  able  to  remember  any  idea 
it  is  necessary,  it  should  have  reviainedin  the  mind  for  a  cer- 
tain space  of  time//  Could  we  conceive  it  possible  that  any 
persons  can  be  found,  who  mistake  this  for  profound  meta- 
physical disquisition? 

But  we  have  much  greater  discoveries  than  this  to  relate 
for  the  instruction  of  the  republic  of  letters,  in  the  profes- 
sor's remarks  upon  attention.  VVe  proceed  to  the  second. 
"  When  we  are  deeply  engaged  in  conversation,"  says  the 
professor,  "  or  occupied  with  any  speculation  that  is  inter- 
esting to  the  mind,  the  surrounding  objects  either  do  not 
produce  in  us  the  perceptions  they  are  fitted  to  excite,  or 
those  perceptions  are  instantly  forgotten.  A  clock,  for  ex- 
ample, may  strike  in  the  same  room  with  us  without  our 
being  able,  the  next  moment,  to  recollect  whether  we  heard 
it  or  not.  In  these  and  similar  cases,  I  believe,  it  is  com- 
monly taken  for  granted,  that  we  really  do  not  perceive  the 
external  object.  From  some  analogous  facts,  however,  I 
am  inclined  to  suspect  that  this  opinion  is  not  well  founded. 
A  person  who  falls  asleep  at  church,  and  is  suddenly  awaked, 
is  unable  to  recollect  the  last  words  spoken  by  the  preacher, 
or  even  to  recollect  that  he  was  speaking  at  all.  And  yet 
that  sleep  does  not  suspend  entirely  the  powers  of  percep- 
tion, may  be  inferred  from  this,  that  if  the  preacher  were 
to  make  a  sudden  pause  in  his  discourse  every  person  in  the 
congregation,  who  was  asleep,  would  instantly  awake.  In 
this  case,  therefore,  it  appears,  that  a  person  may  be  con- 
scious of  a  perception,  without  being  able  afterwards  to 
recollect  it." 

In  this  and  some  of  the  following  paragraphs,  all  the  facts 
adduced  by  the  professor,  are  intended  to  prove  these  two 
propositions.  First,  that  a  person  may  be  conscious  of  a 
perception,  without  being  able  afterwards  to  recollect  it;  or 
in  other  words,  may  forget  many  things  of  which   at   one. 


508  Of  Discernment^  Judgment,  Wit, 

time  he  was  conscious.  Secondly,  that  a  perception,  or  an 
idea,  which  passes  througli  the  mind,  without  leaving  any 
trace  in  the  memory,  may  yet  serve  to  introduce  other  ideas 
connected  with  it  by  the  laws  of  association,  or  to  express 
the  maxim  in  vulgar  phrase,  we  may  by  association  have 
one  train  of  ideas  introduced  into  the  mind,  by  another  train 
which  has  escaped  our  memory.  Would  it  have  required 
a  Solomon  to  be  sent  into  the  world,  to  give  us  this  infor- 
mation? Is  there  any  one  disposed  to  doubt  that  he  forgets 
some  things  with  which  he  was  once  acquainted?  Is  there 
any  one  who  would  put  the  professor  to  the  trouble  of 
proving,  that  a  large  proportion  of  those  ideas  which  are 
perpetually  floating  in  his  mind,  during  his  waking  hours, 
are  entirely  effaced  from  his  memory?  But  it  is  really  some- 
what singular,  that  while  the  professor  is  maintaining  with 
great  display  of  learning  and  decoration  of  imagery,  what 
no  one  in  his  senses  would  dispute  with  him,  he  should 
have  supported  his  propositions  by  false  arguments.  In  en- 
deavouring to  sustain  the  assertion  that  a  person  may  be 
conscious  of  a  perception,  without  being  able  afterwards  to 
recollect  it,  he  says,  "  A  person  who  falls  asleep  at  church, 
and  is  suddenly  awakened,  is  unable  to  recollect  the  last 
words  spoken  by  the  preacher;  or  even  to  recollect  that  he 
was  speaking  at  all.  And  yet  that  sleep  does  not  suspend 
entirely  the  powers  of  perception,  may  be  inferred  from 
this,  that  if  the  preacher  were  to  make  a  sudden  pause 
in  his  discourse,  every  person  in  the  congregation  who 
was  asleep,  would  instantly  awake."  This  inference  is 
what  might  be  called  in  the  language  of  the  law,  a  non 
sequitur.  Mr.  Stewart  here  supposes  that  a  person  who 
has  fallen  asleep  at  church,  has  all  the  time  a  perception 
of  the  preacher's  voice.  Now  we  presume  that  it  would 
be  as  difficult  to  detect  a  perception  of  a  preacher's 
voice,  in  a  man  asleep  at  church,  as  it  was  in  Martin,  and 
Jack,  to  discover    beef,  mutton,   veal,  venison,   partridge, 


Attention^  Intension^  he.  509 

plum-pudding,  and  custard,  in  Lord  Peter's  brown  loaf. 
We  suspect  that  these  church-sleepers  are  engaged  in  no 
such  godly  occupation  as  listening  to  their  pastor's  voice. 
But  we  are  provided  with  a  proof,  which  is  unanswera- 
ble! If  the  preacher,  who  by  a  dull  sermon,  has  lulled 
his  audience  asleep,  should  make  a  sudden  pause  in  his 
discourse  they  would  instantly  awake!  This  is  proof  de- 
monstrative that  their  powers  of  perception  were  not  sus- 
pended in  sleep!  Now,  with  all  due  submission,  we  should 
be  inclined  to  think,  that  it  is  only  conclusive  proof  that 
they  Wf  re  not  so  soundly  asleep,  as  to  be  incapable  of  being 
awaked.  If  the  sleeping  part  of  the  audience  were  all 
awakened  by  a  pause  made  in  preaching,  which  it  is  very 
probable  they  would  be,  unless  they  happened  to  be  so  soundly 
napping  as  to  begin  to  snore  themselves,  and  drown  the  voice 
of  their  pastor,  as  once  took  place,  we  are  informed,  in  the 
presence  of  Dr.  South,  when  the  King  of  England  and  lord 
Lauderdale,  being  both  in  church,  fell  suddenly  asleep,  and 
the  latter  beginning  to  snore.  Dr.  South  called  out  to  him  not 
to  snore  so  loudly,  lest  he  should  wake  his  majesty.  I  say  un- 
less under  circumstances  of  this  kind,  I  entertain  no  doubt 
that  should  a  preacher  who  has  lulled^his  audience  to  sleep, 
make  a  sudden  pause  in  his  discourse,  they  would  instantly 
awake.  But  I  should  be  very  far  from  ascribing  this  result, 
to  the  circumstance,  that  all  this  time,  their  perceptive 
powers  had  not  been  suspended.  They  would  be  awakened 
by  that  new  action  produced  in  the  organs  of  hearing  by  a 
suspension  of  the  speaker's  voice,  together  with  the  ceasing 
of  the  former  action  upon  them.  The  professor  himself,  in 
some  parts  of  his  works,  has  remarked,  if  I  mistake  not,  the 
effect  which  the  same  sound  continued  has  in  lulling  us 
asleep.  This  fact  is  well  known,  and  is  familiar  to  all  per- 
sons. Now,  if  we  suppose  the  hearer,  in  one  of  our  chur- 
ches, tj  be  put  to  sleep  by  a  discourse  monotonously  de- 
livered, if  the  speaker  should  suddenly  make  a  pause  in  his 


510  Of  Discernment^  Judgment^  Wit, 

discourse,  not  only  this  monotonous  sound,  which  induces 
sleip,  would  be  removed,  and,  of  course,  the  effect  be  likely 
to  cease  with  its  cause,  but  an  entirely  new  aff*  ction  of  the 
auditory  nerves  would  take  place;  and  any  new  affection  or 
chang';  taking  place  in  the  organs  of  the  body,  we  know,  has 
the  effect  of  resuscitating  us  from  sleep.  The  sudden  im- 
pulse of  the  body,  or  a  loud  call,  will  arouse  thost  who  are 
in  the  deepest  sleep,  while  even  ordinary  conversation  will 
awake  persons  from  their  usual  slumbers.  How  is  this  ef- 
fected, but  by  a  sudden  change  produced  in  the  organs  of 
sensation?  Privative  causes,  in  this  respect,  are  found  to 
produce  upon  the  mind  and  body,  precisely  the  same  re- 
sults as  positive.  Pain  produces  one  sensation  in  the  mind, 
its  removal  an  entirely  distinct  one;  the  application  of  ice  or 
fire  to  the  body  one  perception,  their  removal  another;  and 
in  both  cases,  the  mind  is  alike  awakened  from  its  dormant 
state.  Those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  sleep  in  situa- 
tions, in  which  they  were  subjected  to  the  inconvenience  of 
loud  and  continued  noises,  not  only  become  accustomed  to 
the  annoyance,  but  if  they  be  suddenly  transferred  to  silent 
retreats,  find  it  difficult  to  obtain  their  usual  repose.  How 
can  this  last  circumstance,  not  a  little  singular,  be  accounted 
for,  but  from  the  consideration,  that  at  the  time,  in  which 
they  retire  to  repose,  from  the  absence  of  the  sounds  which 
usually  assailed  their  ears,  a  new  effect  is  produced  upon  them, 
which  excites  the  mind,  and  disinclines  the  person  to  rest? 
This  view  of  the  matter,  we  doubt  not,  will  with  every  in- 
telligent reader  serve  to  account  for  the  fact,  that  he  who 
has  fallen  asleep  at  church  during  the  delivery  of  a  dis- 
course, will  awake  if  the  preacher  make  a  sudden  pause; 
without  resorting  to  the  improbable  supposition,  that  the 
mind  during  sleep  has  not  its  powers  of  perception  suspen- 
ded, or,  in  other  words,  still  hears  the  speaker's  voice. 

The  reader  will  excuse  me,  if  I  am   compelled    to   spend 
some  time  in  frivolous  discussions,  as  1  wish  once  for  all,  to 


Attention^  Intension,  ts'c,  511 

afford  him  a  fair  specimen  of  that  kind  of  disquisition,  which 
has  lately  assumed  to  itself  the  honourable  appellation  of  the 
philosophy  of  the  human  mind.     Our  professor  proceeds. 

"  Many  other  instances  of  the  same  general  fact  might  be 
produced.  When  we  read  a  book,  (especially  in  a  language 
which  is  not  perfectly  familiar  to  us,)  we  must  perceive  suc- 
cessively every  different  letter,  and  must  afterwards  combine 
these  letters  into  syllables  and  words,  before  we  comprehend 
the  meaning  of  a  sentence.  This  process,  however,  passes 
through  the  mind,  without  leaving  any  trace  in  the  memo- 
ry." If  this  is  produced  to  confirm  the  professor's  proposi- 
tion before  mentioned,  as  it  appears  to  be:  viz.  that  a  "  per- 
son may  be  conscious  of  a  perception,  without  being  able  af- 
terwards to  recollect  it,"  he  has  missed  his  mark,  even  in  a 
case  so  extremely  simple.  It  is  only  when  we  are  learning 
to  spell,  that  we  are  conscious  in  reading  a  book,  that  "  we 
perceive  successively  every  different  letter,  and  must  after- 
wards combine  these  letters  into  syllables  and  words,  before 
we  comprehend  the  meaning  of  a  sentence."  After  we  have 
learnt  to  read  with  facility,  surely  no  man  is  conscious,  in 
perusing  a  book,  that  he  perceives  every  letter  in  every  word, 
and  then  combines  them  into  syllables  and  words.  We  do 
this  by  habit  with  so  much  rapidity,  that  it  is  performed  un- 
consciously to  ourselves.  But  I  can  discover  no  necessity 
for  supposing,  that  in  reading  a  book,  every  letter  in  every 
word  is  distinctly  perceived.  I  am  aware  of  the  wonderful 
rapidity,  with  which  the  mind,  and  the  eye  too,  may  by  ha- 
bit, learn  to  perform  its  operations.  But  in  a  case  of  this 
kind,  I  suspect  that  this  rapidity  of  operation,  may  be  mis- 
understood and  overrated.  I  am  disposed  to  think,  that  af- 
ter learning  to  spell,  in  doing  which  a  minute  attention  is 
paid  to  every  letter  in  a  word,  the  mind  forms  to  itself  in- 
sensibly, more  general  signs,  by  which  it  learns  to  distin- 
guish syllables  and  words  from  each  uther;  as  by  custom,  we 
learn  to  discriminate  the  different  objects  in  nature,  by  a  sin- 


512  Of  Discernment^  Judgment^  Wit, 

gle  glance  at  their  characteristic  properties,  without  going 
through  the  detail  of  the  whole  number  of  their  qualities. 
In  this  opinion,  I  am  confirmed  by  the  difficulty  with  which 
we  meet  at  first,  in  correcting  the  proof  sheets  of  any  work 
in  the  press.  How  often  do  letters  in  this  case,  escape  our 
examination,  and  what  care  and  strict  attention  are  requisite 
to  enable  us  to  detect  errors  and  omissions?  Upon  Mr. 
Stewart's  principles,  we  must  perceive,  in  thcst  cases,  every 
letter  in  each  word,  and,  of  course,  we  must  perceive  what 
there  is  not,  which  supposes  extraordinary  power  of  percep- 
tion, indeed.     In  the  language  of  the  poet: 

Optics  sharp  it  needs,  I  ween. 
To  see  what  is  not  to  be  seen. 

On  these  accounts,  there  seems  to  be  sufficient  reason  to 
conclude,  that  in  reading  with  facility,  the  eye  and  the  mind 
learn  to  relieve  themselves,  from  the  fatigue  of  noticing  eve- 
ry letter  in  particular,  by  forming  to  themselves  a  set  of 
more  general  signs,  by  which  words  are  distinguished.  By 
attending,  too,  to  the  meaning  and  drift  of  the  author,  we 
are  facilitated  in  our  efforts  to  decipher  his  terms.  VVe  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  phraseology  used  by  writers  to 
convey  their  meaning;  and  expecting  the  words  that  are  to 
follow,  if  we  see  but  a  part  of  the  syllables  and  letters,  of 
which  they  are  composed,  we  readily  supply  the  rest. 

This  we  conceive  to  be  the  true  state  of  this  matter.  If, 
however,  this  instance  of  the  facility  with  which  we  learn 
to  trace  the  words  of  an  author  in  reading,  had  been  given 
as  a  proof  of  the  wonderful  velocity,  with  which  both  the 
mind  and  the  eye,  can  learn  by  habit  to  perform  their  ope- 
rations, it  would  be  in  point,  and  readily  conceded.  We  know, 
and  it  is  a  fact  not  disputed,  that  the  mind  and  body  can  be 
brought,  by  the  force  of  habit,  to  perform  their  functions 
with  such  rapidity,  as  not  only  never  to  be  remembered  hy 
us  afterwards,  but  as  even  to  escape  our  own  consciousness. 


Attention^  Intension^  &?c.  513 

These  matters  are  not  disputed,  and  the  professor's  attempt 
to  prove,  that  many  perceptions  of  which  we  are  conscious 
at  the  time,  may  be  forgotten  and  obliterated,  is  like  an  at- 
tempt to  prove,  that  we  are  possessed  of  the  powers  of  me- 
mory, recollection,  and  reason. 

But  what  has  been  said  hitherto  by  the  professor  on  this 
subject,  are  only  preliminary  observations,  intended  to  pre- 
pare the  way  for  a  new  theory,  in  reference  to  some  of  the 
phenomena  of  the  human  mind.  "  These  instances,"  says 
he, "  were  produced  merely  to  illustrate  the  meaning,  I  annex 
to  the  word  attention;  and  to  recall  to  the  recollection  of  the 
reader,  a  few  striking  cases,  in  which  the  possibility  of  our 
carrying  on  a  process  of  thought,  which  we  are  unable  to  at- 
tend to  at  the  time,  or  to  remember  afterwards,  is  acknow- 
ledged in  the  received  systems  of  philosophy.  I  shall  now 
mention  some  other  phenomena,  which  appear  to  me  to  be 
very  similar  to  these,  and  to  be  explicable  in  the  same  man- 
ner; although  they  have  commonly  been  referred  to  very 
different  principles. 

"  The  wonderful  effect  of  practice  in  the  formation  of  ha- 
bits, has  been  often  and  justly  taken  notice  of,  as  one  of  the 
most  curious  circumstances  in  the  human  constitution.  A 
mechanical  operation,  for  example,  which  we  at  first  per- 
formed with  the  greatest  difficulty,  comes  in  time  to  be  so 
familiar  to  us,  that  we  are  able  to  perform  it  without  the 
smallest  danger  or  mistake,  even  while  the  attention  appears 
to  be  completely  engaged  with  other  subjects.  The  truth 
seems  to  be,  that  in  consequence  of  the  association  of  ideas, 
the  different  steps  of  the  process,  present  themselves  suc- 
cessively to  the  thoughts,  without  any  recollection  on  our 
part,  and  with  a  degree  of  rapidity,  proportioned  to  the  length 
of  our  experience;  so  as  to  save  us  entirely  the  trouble  of 
hesitation  and  reflection,  by  giving  us  every  moment,  a  pre- 
cise and  stead}'  notion  of  the  effect  to  be  produced. 

3  T 


514  Of  Discernment^  Judgment^  Wity 

"  In  the  case  of  some  operations  which  are  very  familiar  to 
us,  we  find  ourselves  unable  to  attend  to,  or  to  recollt-ct.  the 
acts  of  the  will  by  which  they  are  preceded;  and  actorcllng- 
ly,  some  philosophers  of  great  eminence,  have  calKd  in  ques- 
tion the  existence  of  such  volitions;  and  have  represented 
our  habitual  actions  as  involuntary  and  mechanical.  I  cannot 
help  thinking  it  more  philosophical  to  suppose,  that  those 
actions  which  are  originally  voluntary,  ahva\s  continue  so; 
although  in  the  case  of  operations,  which  have  become  habi- 
tual in  consequence  of  long  practice,  we  are  not  able  to  re- 
collect every  different  volition.  Thus  in  the  case  of  a  per- 
former on  the  harpsichord,  I  appreht-n  I  that  there  is  an  act 
of  the  will  preceding  every  motion  of  tvery  finger,  although 
he  may  not  be  able  to  recollect  these  volitions  nfterwards; 
and  although  he  may  during  tht  time  of  the  performance,  be 
employed  in  carrying  on  a  separate  trnin  of  thought." 

Again  he  says — "  When  a  person,  for  example,  reads 
aloud,  there  must  be  a  separate  volition  prtcedinc:  the  arti- 
culation of  every  letter;  and  it  has  been  found  by  actual  tri- 
al, that  it  is  possible  to  pronounce  about  two  thousand  let- 
ters in  a  minute." 

This  is  the  professor's  theory  on  this  subject;  and  he  that 
can  swallow  such  doctrines  in  the  science  of  the  human 
mind,  must  have  a  sharp  appt-tite  for  the  mysterious  and  in- 
crt-dibie.  I  shall  first  state  the  received  opinions  of  philoso- 
phers on  this  subject,  and  then  undertake  the  refutation  of 
this  new  one. 

Dr.  Reid,  as  quoted  by  the  professor,  says,  *'  I  conceive 
it  to  be  a  part  of  our  constitution,  that  what  we  have  been 
accustomed  to  do,  we  acquire  not  onl)  a  facility,  but  a 
proneness  to  do  on  like  occasions;  so  that  it  requires  a  par- 
ticular will  or  effort  to  forbear  it,  but  to  do  it  requires  very 
oftKO  no  will  at  all." 

Mr,  Locke's  account  of  the  matter  is  as  follows.  "  Cus- 
tom settles  habits  of  thinking  in  the  understanding,  as  well 


Attention^  Intension^  &?c.  515 

as  of  determining  in  the  will,  and  of  motions  ia  the  body.  A 
musician  used  to  any  tune  will  find,  that  let  it  but  once  be- 
gin in  his  head,  the  ideas  of  the  several  notes  of  it,  will  fol- 
low one  another  orderly  in  his  nnderstanding,  without  any 
care  or  attention,  as  regularly  as  his  fingers  move  over  the 
keys  of  the  organ,  to  play  out  the  tune  he  has  begun,  though 
his  unattentive  thoughts  be  elsewhere  a  wandering." 

Here  we  perceive  that  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Locke,  with 
which  that  of  Dr.  Reid  corresponds,  is,  that  in  the  case  of 
our  habitual  thoughts,  they  are  frequently  connected  togeth- 
er hy  the  principle  of  association,  without  any  intervention 
of  rhe  will  at  all;  and  in  the  case  of  habitual  actions,  we 
learn  mechanicuUy  to  perform  them,  even  while  our  thoughts 
are  occupied  with  other  objects. 

Professor  Stewart,  in  his  note  E,  upon  what  he  has  writ- 
ten on  the  sul>ject  of  attention,  endeavours  to.  enlist  Mr. 
Locke  of  his  party  in  these  views  of  this  matter,  but  entire- 
ly without  success.  And  not  only  so,  but  the  very  passages 
he  quotes  from  Mr.  Locke,  while  they  do  go,  indeed,  to 
show  that  Mr.  Locke  was  aware,  as  every  philosopher  must 
be,  of  the  remarkable  quickness  with  which  the  mind,  in 
some  instances,  performs  its  operations,  at  the  same  time, 
directly  militate  against  his  own  doctrine  about  our  habitual 
actions. 

"  Nor  need  we  wonder  that  this  is  done  with  so  little  no- 
tice," says  Mr.  Locke,  "  if  we  consider  how  very  quick  the 
actions  of  the  mind  are  performed;  for  as  itself  is  thoi;ghtto 
take  up  no  space,  to  have  no  extension,  so  its  actions  seem 
to  require  no  time,  but  many  of  them  seem  to  be  crowded 
into  an  instant.  I  speak  this  in  comparison  to  the  actions  of 
the  body.  Any  one  may  easily  observe  this  in  his  own 
thoughts,  who  will  take  the  pains  to  reflect  on  them.  How, 
as  it  were,  in  an  instant,  do  our  minds,  with  one  glance,  see 
all  the  parts  of  a  demonstration,  which  may  very  well  be 
called  a  long  one,  if  we  consider  the  time  it  will  require  to 


516  Of  Discernment,  Judgment^  Wit, 

put  it  into  words,  and  step  by  step  show  it  to  another?  Se- 
condly, we  "shall  not  be  much  surprised  that  this  is  done  in 
us  with  so  little  notice,  if  we  consider  how  the  facility  which 
we  get  of  doing  things,  by  a  custom  of  doing,  makes  them 
often  pass  in  us  without  our  notice.  Habits,  especially  such 
as  are  begun  very  early,  come  at  last  to  produce  actions  in 
us,  which  often  escape  our  observation.  Men  that  by  cus- 
tom, have  got  the  use  of  a  by-word,  do  almost  in  every  sen- 
tence pronounce  sounds,  which,  though  taken  notice  of  by 
others,  they  themselves  neither  hear  nor  observe."  In  regard 
to  this  last  instance  mentioned  by  Mr.  Locke,  the  use  of  by- 
words, the  principles  of  Mr,  Stewart  are,  that  those  actions 
which  are  at  first  voluntary  in  us,  continue  to  be  so,  and  that 
between  the  sounding  of  every  letter  in  the  by-words,  there 
is  an  act  of  the  will  intervening;  the  principles  of  Mr.  Locke 
are,  that  not  only  is  the  by-word  pronounced  frequently 
without  the  intervention  of  the  will,  but  without  even  the 
observation  or  notice  of  the  person  at  all.  Who  is  right  in 
his  decision,  it  may  be  left  to  any  intelligent  person,  who  re- 
flects upon  the  operations  of  his  own  mind,  to  judge. 

While  Mr.  Locke,  however,  discovers  himself  to  be  fully 
apprised  of  the  great  rapidity  with  which  the  mind,  in  some 
cases,  performs  its  operations,  insomuch  that  many  of  them 
seem  to  be  crowded  into  an  instant:  it  is  to  be  remarked, 
that,  as  he  himself  expresses  it,  he  means  this  in  comparison 
of  the  actions  of  the  body.  There  must  be  limits,  and  those 
too  very  narrow  ones,  from  the  finite  nature  of  the  human 
soul,  within  which  the  rapidity  of  its  actions  must  be  cir- 
cumscribed. That  he  was  fully  aware  of  this,  appears  from 
chap.  14,  book  2,  sect.  9,  of  his  essay.  "  Hence  I  leave  it 
to  others  to  judge,"  says  he,  "  whether  it  be  not  probable 
that  our  ideas  do,  whilst  we  are  awake,  succeed  one  another 
in  our  minds  at  certain  distances,  not  much  unlike  the  images 
in  the  inside  of  a  lantern,  turned  round  by  the  heat  of  a 
candle.  The  appearance  of  them  in  train,  though  perhaps,  it 


Attention^  Intension,  cifc.  517 

may  be  sometimes  faster,  and  sometimes  slower;  yet  I  guess 
varies  not  very  much  in  a  waking  man.  There  seem  to  be  cer- 
tain bounds  to  the  quickness  and  slowness  of  the  succession 
of  these  ideas,  one  ta  another  in  our  minds,  beyond  which 
they  can  neither  delay  nor  hasten."  Mr.  Locke,  therefore, 
conceives  that  there  is  a  maximum  and  a  minimum,  in  the 
degree  of  quickness  with  which  our  ideas  succeed  each  other, 
and  that  those  two  points  are  not  very  remote  from  each 
other.  In  regard  to  our  external  senses,  and  those  percep- 
tions which  are  admitted  by  them,  we  know  from  fact  and 
experience,  that  there  is  a  degree  of  slowness  and  rapidity 
in  the  ideas,  derived  from  those  sources,  which  it  is  not  dif- 
ficult to  ascertain.  Objects  frequently  move  so  swiftly  by 
us,  that  they  are  imperceptible  to  the  senses,  and  the  sha- 
dow of  the  sun  upon  the  dial,  or  the  hour-hand  upon  the 
face  of  the  watch,  move  so  slowly  as  to  produce  the  same 
result,  and  to  be  undiscerned.  In  regard  to  the  moral  world, 
and  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind,  there  is  a  great  dif- 
ficulty presented  in  determining  the  principles  by  which  they 
are  regulated,  from  the  thinness  of  the  structure  of  the  one, 
and  the  transitory  and  evanescent  nature  of  the  other.  Hence 
a  theory  false  or  absurd,  may  gain  a  temporary  currency, 
because  no  one  has  sufficiently  examined  the  subject,  to  be 
able  to  detect  its  unsoundness.  This  difficulty  meets  us  in 
the  discussion  of  the  present  point.  We  all  know  the  quick- 
ness, with  which  the  human  mind  performs  its  operations, 
but  at  what  point  it  must  stop,  and  what  is  the  degree  of 
that  swiftness,  beyond  which  it  cannot  advance,  it  is  extreme- 
ly difficult  to  decide.  Its  progress  is  not  an  object  of  the 
senses,  and  therefore,  to  attain  certainty  by  any  satisfactory 
experiments,  appears  to  be  an  arduous  task.  We  trust,  how- 
ever, that  we  shall  be  able  to  satisfy  every  unprejudiced 
reader,  that  at  least  in  the  extent  to  which  this  matter  is 
pushed  in  the  theory  of  the  professor,  it  is  unfounded  and 


J 18  Of  Dixcernmefit^  Jud^rtnetit,  IVit^ 

absurd,  and  contradicted  by  all   the  best   established  facts, 
and  unbiassed  suggestions  of  the  human  mind. 

The  professor's  theory  is,  that  those   actions  which  v/ere 
originally  voluntary,  continue  so;  that  a  man   playing  at  the 
harpsichord,  has  an  act  of  his  will,  intervening  between  every 
motion  of  every  finger;  and  also  that  one  person  in  speaking 
to  another  has  an   act  of  his  will,   intervening  between  the 
pronunciation  of  every  syllable  and  every  letter  in  each  word. 
If  this  theory  be  true,  in  the  first  place;  as  a  musician  can 
sing  a  song  at  the  time  of  playing  his  tune,  not  only  must 
there  be  an  act  of  his    will  between   every   motion   of  every 
finger,  but  also  between  his  pronunciation  of  every  letter  of 
every  word  at  the  same  time.     Nor  is  this  all,  if  he  is  play- 
ing upon  one  side  of  his  piano   with    five    fingers,  and    upon 
the  other  with  the  other   five,  and  if  he  be  expert  at   music, 
he  will  be  looking  at   the  same    moment  at   the    words   of  a 
song  which  he  never  saw  before,  and  catching  them  from  the 
paper.     Still  more;  if  he  be  a  lover  of  music,  his  whole  soul 
and  deepest  attention  will  be  absorbed  in  the  sentiments  con- 
tained in  his  song,  and  he  will  be  aiming  at  giving  them  full 
effect,  by  the  touching  tones  with   which   he  repeats  them. 
Now,  in  all  this  complex  operation,  is   it   possible,   that  the 
mind  is  present  through  every  part,  and  accompanying  every 
successive  step,  however  rapid   the  progress,  hy  successive 
acts,  both  of  thought  and  volition?     Nothing  can   be   more 
preposterously  absurd  than  to  suppose   it.     Let  us  analize, 
now,  the  whole  complex  operation,  and  see  what  inconceiva- 
ble wonders  wc  are  supposing  the  human  mind  to  be  achiev- 
ing.    Between  every  successive  stroke  of  the  fingers  of  both 
hands  upon  the  piano,  there  is  supposed  to   be  a  distinct  act 
of  volition.     Between  every  letter  and  s^  liable  the  musician 
pronounces  in  singing,  there  is  supposed  to  be  a  distinct  act  of 
volition.  Of  every  letter  antl  syllable  in  the  song  which  he  is 
catching  from  his  book,  he  is  said  to  have  a  distinct  percep- 
tion, at  the  same  time  that  he  is  combining  these  letters  into 


Attention^  Intension^  iifc.  519 

syllables,  and  these  syllables  into  words.  And  during  this 
whole  time,  while  the  mind  is  performing  successive  acts  of 
express  volition  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  it  is  insensible 
of  these  operations,  and  its  supreme  attention  is  engaged 
with  the  sentiments  contained  in  a  song,  and  the  thrilling 
tones  with  which  it  is  sung.  If  this  be  the  case,  must  not 
our  ideas,  instead  of  passing  through  the  mind  in  that  regular 
order  alluded  to  by  Mr.  Locke,  when  he  compares  them  to 
images  in  the  inside  of  a  lantern  turned  round  by  the  heat 
of  a  candle,  move  with  the  velocity  of  a  whirligig? 

Besides  the  evident  absurdity  and  impossibility  of  the  thing, 
there  are  striking  and  satisfactory  arguments  against  it,  and 
in  favour  of  the  old  theory  of  philosophers  upon  the  subject. 
There  are  some  common  and  indisputable  phenomena,  which 
can  be  solved,  only  upon  the  principle,  that  some  of  our  mo- 
tions are  absolutely  mechanical  and  automatic.  A  man  has 
contracted  the  habit  of  profane  swearing,  but  becomes  a  con- 
vert to  Christianity.  For  some  time  after  his  reformation,  pro- 
fane language  escapes  from  him  against  his  will,  and  it  takes 
him  time  and  vigilant  attention  completely  to  conquer  this 
vicious  habit.  Here  the  mechanical  force  of  habit  impels  hina 
to  offend  not  only  without  his  volitions,  but  in  direct  oppo- 
sition to  them.  Could  there  in  this  case  have  been  an  express 
act  of  volition,  between  every  syllable  and  letter  which  he 
pronounced  in  this  manner?  So  far  from  it,  that,  perhaps,  he 
was  not  aware  that  he  had  used  such  expressions,  his  wishes 
and  thoughts  being  diverted  to  other  affairs.  An  orator  in 
speaking,  has  acquired  some  awkward  and  unseemly  gesture, 
or  some  barbarous  pronunciation  of  his  terms.  He  is  inform- 
ed of  the  circumstance  by  a  friend  and  determines  to  correct 
it.  The  very  next  time  he  attempts  to  speak  in  public,  the 
same  pronunciation  or  gesture  is  repeated.  Is  an  act  of  the 
will  here  in  favour  or  against  it?  Do  we  not  find  here  the 
influence  of  mere  mechanical  action? 


520  Of  Discernment^  Judgment^  Wit, 

But,  in  order  to  put  this  matter  beyond  all  kind  of  doubt, 
let  us  place  it  in  other  points  of  light.  Upon  the  principles 
of  the  professor,  when  a  man  is  playing  upon  a  piano,  a  dis- 
tinct act  of  the  will  intervenes  between  every  motion  of  every 
finger,  and  between  his  sounding  of  every  letter,  contain- 
ed in  the  song  he  is  singing.  Now,  say  that  one  hand  is 
striking  the  base  notes,  and  the  other  those  of  the  counter  or 
tenor:  must  we  not  conclude  in  such  case,  that  between  the 
unnumbered  motions  of  the  fingers  upon  the  right  hand,  and 
those  of  the  fingers  upon  the  left,  there  is,  at  times,  not  the 
hundredth,  thousandth,  millionth,  billionth  part,  (and  so  on 
indefinitely)  of  a  second?  Must  not  the  same  calculation  of 
time  be  true,  as  to  the  instants,  in  which  the  syllables  are 
pronounced  in  singing,  and  the  instants,  in  which  the  notes 
are  struck  by  the  fingers?  Now,  from  this  calculation  does 
it  not  appear,  that  if  the  professor's  theory  be  true,  distinct 
acts  of  the  will  must  take  place  sometimes  in  the  hundredth, 
then  in  the  thousandth,  then  in  the  millionth  and  billionth, 
trillionlh  and  quadrillionth,,S<:c.  part  of  an  instant?  Will  any 
one  believe  this?  All  time,  indeed,  is  relative,  as  the  pro- 
fessor remarks,  and  there  may  be  creatures  in  the  universe 
capable  of  the  wonderful  quickness  of  perception  and  willing 
here  supposed;  but  we  are  perfectly  assured,  that  for  a  Being 
limited  as  man  is,  in  his  faculties  both  of  mind  and  body, 
the  thing  is  impossible.  The  phenomena,  therefore,  cannot 
be  explained  but  upon  having  recourse  to  mechanical  action 
in  our  system.  We  consider  this  argument  as  so  complete- 
ly satisfactory  and  unanswerable,  that  we  shall  not  spend  our 
own  time  and  that  of  the  reader,  in  attempting  to  show  the 
insuflSciency  of  those  proofs,  by  which  the  professor  has  en- 
deavoured to  sustain  his  theory. 

Lest  we  should  fatigue  our  readers  as  much  as  we  have 
fatigued  ourselves,  we  hasten  over  a  host  of  t/ivial  disquisi- 
tions and  absolute  errors,  to  the  learned  problem  so  solemnly 
proposed  and  philosophically  solved,  in  the  conclusion  of  the 


Attention^  Intension^  &fc,  521 

professor's  dissertation  upon  attention.  "  Suppose  the  eye 
to  be  fixed  in  a  particular  position,  the  picture  of  an  object 
to  be  painted  on  the  retina.  Does  the  mind  perceive  the 
complete  figure  of  the  object  at  once,  or  is  this  perception 
the  result  oi'  the  various  perceptions  we  have  of  the  different 
points  in  the  outline."  To  this  question,  thus  gravely  stated 
as  if  it  were  of  immense  importance,  the  professor  gives  the 
following  ansvver.  "  That  the  mind  would  perceive  every 
point  in  the  outline  of  the  object,  provided  the  whole  of  it 
were  painted  on  the  retina  at  the  same  instant,  for  percep- 
tion, like  consciousness,  is  an  involuntary  operation.  As  no 
two  points,  however,  of  the  outline  are  in  the  same  direction, 
every  point  by  itself,  constitutes  just  as  distinct  an  object  of 
attention  to  the  mind,  as  if  it  were  separated  by  an  interval 
of  empty  space  from  all  the  rest.  If  the  doctrine,  there- 
fore, formerly  stated  be  just,  it  is  impossible  for  the  mind  to 
attend  to  more  th  tn  one  of  these  points  at  once;  and  as  the 
perception  of  the  figure  of  the  object  implies  a  knowledge 
of  the  relative  situations  of  the  different  points  with  respect 
to  each  other,  we  must  conclude  that  the  perception  of  figure 
by  the  eye,  is  the  result  of  a  number  of  different  acts  of  at- 
tention. These  acts  of  attention,  however,  are  performed 
with  such  rapidity,  that  the  eflfect,  with  respect  to  us,  is  the 
same  as  if  the  perception  were  instantaneous."  This  state- 
ment may  be  regarded  as  the  sublime  of  metaphysical  sci- 
ence. We  had  before  thought  that  we  had  descended  deep- 
ly enough,  when  descanting  upon  the  acts  of  the  will,  but 
now  we  are  going  deeper  and  deeper,  and,  no  doubt,  at  last 
shall  reach  the  very  bottom  of  the  ocean.  We  before  heard 
of  acts  of  the  will  which  w^ere  performed  in  the  billionth, 
trillionth,  and  quadrillionth,  &c.  part  of  an  instant,  and  we 
now  hear  of  acts  of  perception  and  attention,  performed  in  as 
little  time.  For  when  we  look  at  any  object,  as  a  landscape 
for  instance,  we  do  not  have  a  truly  instantaneous  percep- 
tion of  it,  but  our  perception  is  made  up  of  as  many  percep- 

'^      TT 


5SS  Of  Disteniment,  Judgment^  W'tt^  fc?c. 

tions  and  acts  of  attention,  as  there  are  minima  visibilia,  or 
least  visible  points  in  it;  for,  says  the  professor,  "  as  no  two 
points  of  the  outline  are  in  the  same  direction,  every  point 
by  itself,  constitutes  as  distinct  an  object  of  attention  to  the 
mind,  as  if  it  were  separated  by  an  interval  of  empty  space 
from  all  the  rest."  The  doctrine  held,  then,  is,  that  when 
we  look  at  this  landscape,  the  rays  which  come  from  each 
minimum  visibile,  as  Berkeley  calls  it,  make  a  distinct  im- 
pression upon  the  mind,  and  by  a  distinct  act  of  attention  it 
is  perceived;  and  that  when  all  these  minima  visibilia  have 
be  n  thus  severally  perceived  by  separate  acts  of  attention, 
then  the  mind  perceives  the  whole  object,  and  not  before. 
Now,  as  we  showed  before  in  regard  to  the  will,  amidst  the 
numberless  rays  of  light  coming  from  the  minima  visibilia 
of  any  landscape  or  other  object,  that  strike  upon  the  retina 
and  excite  this  perception  and  attention  of  the  mind,  must 
there  not  be  some  so  rapidly  succeeding  each  other,  that  not 
the  space  of  time  amounting  to  the  billionth,  trillionth,  and 
quadrillionth,  8i!:c.  part  of  an  instant  can  intervene?  Surely,  no 
mathematical  proposition  can  be  more  strictly  demonstrated 
than  this.  Here  then  perception  and  attention,  the  last  a  volun- 
tary act,  is  said  to  be  performed  in  the  millionth,  billionth, 
trillionth,  &c.  part  of  an  instant.  The  proposition,  therefore, 
of  the  professor  is  so  evidently  trifling,  absurd  and  ridicu- 
lous, that  we  shall  not  give  ourselves  the  trouble  of  answer- 
ing the  arguments,  by  which  he  endeavours  to  substantiate 
it.  The  argumentum  ad  absurdum,  is  here  also  perfectly  satis- 
factory. We  should  as  soon  seriously  undertake  to  answer 
that  proposition  formerly  discussed  by  the  schoolmen,  refer- 
red to  by  Dr.  Reid,  num  chimsera  bombinans  in  vacuo  pos- 
sit  comedere  secundas  intentiones;  or  some  of  those  learned 
queries  so  humorously  referred  to  in  that  whimsical  but 
profound  piece  of  criticism,  entitled  Martinus  Scriblerus,  or 
the  art  of  sinking  in  poetry. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


Of  Memory. 


In  initnediate  connection  with  the  power  of  attention  and 
greatly  depending  upon  it,  is  memory,  by  which  we  are  able 
to  retain  possession  of  the  ideas  we  have  imbibed,  and  put 
them  to  their  several  uses.  In  the  Greek  mythology,  we 
cannot  say  with  what  ground  in  philosophy,  Mnemosyne 
was  made  the  mother  of  the  Muses.  In  this  adjustment  of 
the  several  places  of  their  Gods,  by  the  Pagans,  we  rather 
think  that  memory  was  elevated  to  an  undue  rank,  and  usurp- 
ed some  of  the  honours  of  reason  and  imagination.  The  me- 
mory is  greatly  aided  in  the  functions  allotted  it  in  our  sys- 
tem, by  that  application  of  mind  which  is  denominated  at- 
tention. The  province  of  perception  and  attention  is  to  col- 
lect together  those  treasures  which  are  to  be  deposited  in 
this  store-house,  as  it  has  been  very  justly  and  significantly 
styled,  to  be  called  out  at  pleasure  for  the  service  of  the  un- 
derstanding. More  than  half  of  those  persons  who  are  per- 
petually complaining  of  their  want  of  memories,  may  rather 
ascribe  their  incapacity  in  recollecting  things,  which  they  de- 
sire to  recall,  to  their  habits  of  inattention.  There  is  undoubt- 
edly a  great  difference  in  the  degree  of  strength  in  those 
powers  of  memory,  with  which  different  persons  are  endow- 
by  the  Creator,  as  there  is  a  difference,  in  like  manner,  in 
all  our  other  faculties;  but  there  is  also,  as   certainly,  much 


524  Of  Memory. 

less  original  distinction  among  us  in  this  respect,  than  there 

appears  to  be  upon  a  superficial  view.  Many  persons  do  not 
recollect  what  they  have  heard,  seen  or  read,  because  they 
have  not  closely  applif-d  their  minds  to  the  subjects  discus- 
sed, and  endeavoured  to  obtain  clear  and  distinct  ideas  about 
them.  They  pass  precipitately  from  object  to  object,  and 
obtain  no  clear  and  distinct  ideas  of  any. 

The  power  of  memory  performs  two  very  distinct  acts, 
remembrance,  and  reminiscence  or  recollection.  By  the  one, 
we  involuntarily  call  to  mind  what  we  had  before  known,  and 
by  the  other,  we  voluntarily  recall  those  ideas  which  were 
once  conveyed  into  the  mind;  or  what  is  the  same  thing, 
think  anew  of  those  things  concerning  which  we  had  thought 
before. 

There  are  three  characteristic  excellencies  of  a  perfectly 
good  memory,  facility  or  quickness,  in  the  acquisition  of 
ideas,  which  we  wish  to  appropriate  to  ourselves;  the  power 
of  retention,  by  which  we  hold  possession  of  those  which 
have  been  committed  to  this  depository;  and  lastly,  readi- 
ness of  recollection,  by  which  we  are  able  to  command,  at 
our  pleasure,  the  whole  store  of  ideas  which  we  have  accu- 
mulated, and  put  them  ii.to  requisition  as  the  purposes  of 
life,  and  the  intercourse  of  mankind  may  render  it  necessa- 
ry. The  great  faults,  therefore,  of  the  memory,  as  opposites 
of  these  excellencies,  are  dullness  in  acquiring,  unretentive- 
ness,  and  unfaithfulness  or  slowness,  in  recollection.  Some 
persons  will  commit  any  train  of  thought  to  memory,  with 
great  facility,  but  as  quickly  have  it  obliterated  from  their 
minds;  while  others,  on  the  contrary,  find  great  difficulty  in 
committing  any  thing  to  memory,  but  when  once  it  is  well 
fixed  in  that  power,  it  is  faithfully  retained.  This  may  be 
one  reason,  among  others,  why  those  who  have  what  are 
supposed  to  be  parts  more  sluggish  and  unpromising,  are 
often  found,  in  the  race  of  improvement,  to  outstrip  compe- 
titors of  much  brighter  talents,  and  who  commenced  their 


Of  Memory,  525 

career  under  more  happy  auspices.  The  very  difficulty  ex- 
perienced by  the  former,  in  making  their  attainments^  ren- 
dered those  habits  of  attention  necessary,  which  gave  them 
clear  and  distinct  ideas,  and  at  the  same  time,  enabled  them 
completely  to  appropriate  them  to  themselves.  Hence,  in  a 
race  of  this  nature,  the  fable  of  the  hare  and  the  tortoise  is 
often  realised.  There  is  another  reason,  however,  which 
may  be  given  to  account  for  this  phenomenon.  Those  pow- 
ers of  understanding,  which  are  the  most  solid  and  cultiva- 
ble, are  not  apt  to  arrive  at  very  early  maturity.  They  are 
very  gradually  evolved,  but  at  length  expand  into  the  great- 
est lieauty  and  perfection.  Great  precocity  of  genius,  gene- 
rally disappoints  the  expectations  it  awakens.  Premature  ta- 
lent, like  a  tender  flower,  expands  at  a  very  early  period, 
blossoms,  and  exhibits  all  the  appearance  of  producing  a  no- 
ble supply  of  fruit,  but  too  often,  like  that  fruit  which  is 
said  to  grow  upon  the  margin  of  the  dead  sea,  after  display- 
ing every  symptom  of  flourishing  and  arriving  at  perfec- 
tion, withers  away,  and  crumbles  at  the  touch.  The  lily  and 
the  rose,  soon  arrive  at  maturity,  and  as  soon  decay;  but  the 
oak  and  the  cedar  ripen  slowly,  and  require  time  and  nur- 
ture, to  bring  them  to  full  perfection. 

The  same  observation  has  been  made  concerning  memory 
and  reason,  as  were  alluded  to  before,  about  wit  and  judg- 
ment; that  wherever  the  one  power  is  found  in  its  greatest 
strength,  there  is  apt  to  be  a  deficiency  in  the  other.  Mr. 
Pope,  a  nice  observer,  remarks,  that, 

Thus  in  the  soul  while  memory  prevails, 
The  solid  power  of  understanding  fails. 

Within  certain  restrictions  no  doubt,  this  observation  is  well 
founded.  In  the  original  conformation  of  the  mind,  there 
can  be  no  reason  assigned  why,  when  the  power  of  memory 
is  communicated  in  its  highest  perfection,  there  should  be  a 
failure  in  those  of  reason  and  invention,  unless  it  be,  indeed, 


526  Of  Memory. 

the  acknowledged  frugality  of  nature,  who  is  known  in  all 
her  works,  to  distribute  favours,  no  doubt  for  the  wisest  pur- 
poses, with  a  most  sparing  hand.  If,  however,  in  the  original 
structure  of  the  mind,  we  can  discover  no  reason  why,  when 
inem6ry  is  given  to  us  in  its  greatest  vigour,  we  are  not 
likely,  at  the  same  time,  to  be  equally  distinguished  for  the 
powers  of  invention,  judgment,  and  reason,  we  can  find  suf- 
ficient excuse  for  the  prevalent  opinion  of  mankind  on  the 
subject,  in  the  natural  tendencies  of  the  human  mind,  and 
the  laws  that  influence  its  action.  Man  is  with  great  diffi- 
culty excited  to  the  exercise  of  those  powers,  which  he  does 
not  find  necessary  to  his  well-being,  or  to  execute  the  ordi- 
nary and  important  purposes  of  life.  We  have  before  seen, 
how  a  person  possessed  of  sight,  neglects  to  pay  attention  to 
all  those  nice  perceptions  of  touch  and  hearing,  which  at- 
tract the  most  scrutinising  observation  of  the  blind.  The 
reason  of  this,  is,  that  to  the  first,  those  perceptions  are  use- 
less, because  their  place  is  more  than  supplied  by  the  higher 
power  of  sight.  A  similar  rule  holds  in  the  case  of  all  the 
/faculties  both  of  mind  and  body.  Those  who  are  posses- 
sed of  unusually  strong  memories,  find  themselves  so  rea- 
dily supplied  out  of  the  treasures  of  others,  with  all  those 
lessons  of  theoretical  or  practical  knowledge,  which  may 
serve  their  various  purposes  in  life,  that  they  are  under  no 
constraint  to  cultivate  the  talents  of  reason,  judgment,  and 
invention.  I'hey,  on  the  other  hand,  who  have  a  remarkably 
ready  invention,  and  abundant  resources  within  themselves, 
so  that  they  are  never  at  a  loss  for  arguments  and  illustra- 
tions of  the  point  in  hand,  cannot  submit  to  the  drudgery  of 
making  themselves  masters  of  the  views  and  conceptions  of 
others.  The  reason,  therefore,  why  these  powers  of  reason 
and  memory,  are  seldom  found  in  their  highest  perleCtion 
united  in  the  same  person,  is,  that  men  are  prone  to  exert 
them  separately  and  distinctly,  from  each  other,  and  in  un- 
due proportions.     By  this  means,  the  one  is  apt  to  be  cul- 


Of  Memory.  527 

tivated  to  the  total  exclusion,  or  but  partial  exercise  of  the 
other.     I  do  not  mean  to  assert,  indeed,  that  there  may  not 
in  our  original  structure,  be  communicated  to  us  one  of  these 
faculties  in  great  vigour,  while  we  are  left  entirely  destitute, 
or  but  in  a  slight  degree  possessed  of  the  other.  But  a  great 
deal    also,    depends  upon  the  proper  culture  of  the  mind, 
whether  the  one  shall  gain  the  pre-eminence,  or  all  shall  be 
alike  nurtured  and  invigorated.     Nothing  can  be  more  false 
than  that  sentiment,  so  frequently  recurred  to  in  society,  that 
deep  erudition,  and  the  study  of  the  most  finished  models, 
are  calculated  to  repress  genius,  and  shackle  the  inventive 
powers.  Little  minds  only,  are  encumbered  by  the  weight  of 
learning,  but  to  really  good  ones   it  becomes  their  sustenta- 
tion.   Science  and  learning,  furnish  the  literary  artificer  with 
more  copious  materials,  out  of  which  to  form  his  structures, 
and  his  skill  will  be  displayed  in  the  selection  of  his  mate- 
rials, and  the  execution  of  his  work.     Can  it  ever  be  of  dis- 
advantage to  any  one,  to  have  a  large  stock  of  precious  ma- 
terials on  hand,  save  to  those  who  have  not  address  and  in- 
genuity enough,  to  apply  them  to  practical  purposes,  and  on 
this  account  allow  them  to  rot  and  perish  in  their  posses- 
sion?    To  the  man  of  true  genius,  every  scrap  of  informa- 
tion he  obtains  is  of  real  service,  and  the  largest  accumula- 
tions remain  entirely  at  his  disposal.     Feeble  minds,  have 
their  vanity  and  ambition  sufficiently  gratified,  in  being  able 
to  display  ostentatiously,  the   intellectual  wealth  of  others, 
but  strong  ones  have  a  higher  aim,  to  draw  new  riches  from 
their  own  resources. 

The  great  art,  in  education,  as  I  conceive,  consists  in  the 
contemporaneous  cultivation  of  all  the  powers  of  the  mind, 
and  that  too,  in  a  just  proportion  to  their  importance  and 
dignity.  As  reason  is,  indisputably,  the  noblest  prerogative 
of  our  nature,  the  earliest  and  most  solicitous  attention, 
should  be  devoted  to  its  improvement.  Afterwards  in  due 
order,  should  be  cultivated  the  memory  and  imagination. 


StiB  Of  Memory. 

which  may  be  regarded  as  the  hand-maids  of  reason.  The 
one  supplies  it  with  the  lessons  of  past  expeiience  and  ob- 
servation, and  the  other  gives  its  embellishments  to  the 
structures  it  has  reared.  Under  this  view  of  the  subject, 
the  more  abstract  and  difficult  studies,  should  at  a  very  ear- 
ly period,  be  mingled  with  the  more  agreeable  and  easv  of 
acquisition,  in  the  instruction  of  youth.  As  soon  as  it  can 
possibly  be  done  with  advantage,  let  the  hardier  powers  of 
the  understanding  be  put  to  the  test,  strengthened  and  invi- 
gorated. 

Mr.  Locke  informs  us,  that  "  the  celebrated  Mr.  Pascal, 
until  the  decay  of  his  health,  had  impaired  his  memory,  for- 
got nothing  of  what  he  had  done,  read,  or  thought,  in  any 
part  of  his  rational  age."  The  declaration  of  Mr.  Pascal 
was,  that  he  forgot  nothing  which  he  chose  to  remember, 
and  must,  no  doubt,  have  been  intended  to  be  taken  in  a 
very  limited  sense.  He  must  have  meant,  that  he  forgot 
nothing  of  great  importance,  for  no  man  could  tell  whether 
he  faithfully  retained  every  slight  act,  which  he  had  per- 
formed, or  every  trivial  idea,  which  had  passed  through  his 
mind  in  reading  or  reflection,  during  such  a  length  of  time. 
Such  a  memory,  as  far  as  it  is  to  be  acquired,  is  worthy  of 
our  most  assiduous  exertions  to  obtain  it.  How  useful  is  it, 
even  in  the  ordinary  transactions  of  life;  but  to  the  orator, 
the  philosopher,  the  poet,  and  fine  writer,  it  is  indispensa- 
ble. And,  in  order,  to  encourage  us  in  our  endeavours  to 
improve  this  talent,  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that,  perhaps,  we 
do  not  possess  a  more  cultivable  faculty.  Making  its  ap- 
pearance in  the  child  in  the  feeblest  beginnings,  there  are  no 
limits  to  be  set  to  the  improvement  of  which  it  is  suscepti- 
ble, by  regular,  continued,  and  vigorous  exercise.  By  the 
help  of  this  faculty,  the  orator,  who,  at  first,  made  his  ap- 
pearance in  a  public  assembly  with  timidity  and  discompo- 
sure of  mind,  being  alarmed  and  agitated,  lest  he  should  fail 
in  his  attempt,  to  convey  to  others  the  ideas  which  occupied 


Of  Memory.  529 

his  own  mind,  is  enabled  at  a  single  glance,  to  review  all  the 
arguments  he  had  prepared  in  his  private  reflections,  and 
thus  feel  himself  entire  master  of  his  subject,  and  able  to 
proceed  with  steadiness  and  composure,  through  the  various 
stages  of  its  discussion.  By  means  of  this,  it  is  that  the  phi- 
losopher treasures  up  in  his  mind,  those  maxims  of  science, 
which  lead  him  on  from  investigation  to  investigation,  and 
from  one  discovery  to  another;  that  the  poet  retains  for  the 
delight  of  mankind,  those  fine  sentiments,  sublime  descrip- 
tions, and  glowing  images,  which  present  themselves  to  him 
in  his  moments  of  inspiration;  and  that  the  statesman,  and 
man  of  business,  is  enabled  to  summon  to  his  aid,  on  the 
greatest  emergencies,  all  the  lessons  of  his  former  observa- 
tion, to  determine  him  to  action.  And  when  properly  esti- 
mated, what  a  strange  and  extraordinary  power  is  it?  If 
we  were  not  so  familiar  with  its  results,  should  we  not  re- 
gard it  as  an  impossible  operation  of  nature?  To  be  able 
simply  to  perceive  the  objects  around  and  within  us,  would 
seem  sufficiently  wonderful;  but  how  is  our  astonishment 
augmented,  when  we  reflect  upon  that  talent,  which  enables 
us  to  recall  what  has  passed  months  and  years  before,  and 
that  too,  in  many  cases  with  the  greatest  accuracy? 

It  is  a  general  remark,  founded  upon  almost  universal  ex- 
perience, that  old  persons  lose  their  power  of  remembering; 
and  what  is  still  more  singular,  that  in  advanced  life,  we  re- 
collect better  what  passed  at  an  early  period  than  what  has  re- 
cently happened.  These  phenomena  can  be  explained  only 
by  the  consideration,  that  increasing  age  augments  the  rigidi- 
ty and  sluggishness  of  the  several  parts  of  the  body,  and  toge- 
ther with  the  rest,  no  doubt,  those  which  immediately  minis- 
ter to  the  mind  in  performing  its  acts  of  memory.  Old  persons 
see  less  clearly  and  distinctly,  and  are  obliged  to  have  recourse 
to  the  assistance  of  art,  because  the  organs  of  vision  become 
impaired  by  age,  and  why  should  not  a  failure  in  the  memory 
be  occasioned  by  a  like  decline  in  the   organs   that  minister 

3  X 


530  Gf  Memory, 

to  that  faculty?  The  same  view  of  the  matter  accounts  for 
the  fact,  that  the  old  can  remember  more  distinctly  what  oc- 
curs in  early  life  than  those  things  which  happen  to  them  at 
a  more  advanced  period.  Their  organs  being  sound  and 
vigorous  in  youth  and  manhood,  every  idea  made  a  strong- 
er impression,  and  was  faithfully  imprinted  and  retained; 
whereas  in  old  age,  the  organs  being  weakened  and  impair- 
ed, every  impression  made  upon  them,  is  like  an  effect  pro- 
duced upon  a  hard  and  sluggish  substance,  it  is  not  deep 
and  soon  wears  away. 

I  am  inclined  to  think,  that  much  labour  has  often  been 
wasted  in  the  cultivation  of  the  memory,  from  the  mode  in 
which  that  object  has  been  pursued;  but  when  rightly  nur- 
tured, the  most  solid  benefits  will  result  from  it.  Seneca  in- 
forms us,  that  by  the  mere  exertion  of  his  memory,  he  could 
repeat  two  thousand  words  upon  once  hearing  them,  although 
they  had  no  dependence  or  connection  with  each  other.  He 
mentions  a  friend  of  his,  Fortius  Latro,  who  retained  in  his 
memory  all  the  declamations  he  had  ever  spoken,  and  never 
found  his  memory  fail  him  in  a  single  word.  He  tells  us 
also,  that  Cyneas,  being  sent  by  king  Pyrrhus,  ambassador 
to  the  Romans,  had  so  learnt  the  names  of  his  spectators  in 
one  day,  that  the  next  day  he  saluted  the  whole  senate,  and 
all  the  populace  assembled,  each  by  his  name.  Cyrus,  is 
said  to  have  known  every  soldier  in  his  army  by  name;  and 
L.  Scipio  all  the  people  of  Rome.  Carneades  could  repeat 
whole  volumes,  and  Dr.  Wallis  make  long  mathematical  cal- 
culations, by  memory  alone.*  These  instances  show  to 
what  an  extent  this  power  may  be  strengthened  and  invigora- 
ted, even  by  the  proper  and  lawful  means  of  improving  it. 
They  should  stimulate  every  one  who  is  ambitious  of  excel- 
lence to  indefatigable  exertions  to  attain  so  desirable  an  ob- 
ject. 

*  ttse  Kees'  Encyclopedia,  Art.  Memory. 


Of  Memory.  531 

As  to  those  artificial  expedients  which  have  been  propo- 
sed, and  in  some  cases  tried,  in  order  to  aid  memory  in  re- 
taining what  it  has  acquired,  like  the  attempts  formerly  made 
to  form  an  orato?"  by  rule,  their  success  and  expediency  may 
justly  be  doubted.  Simonides  is  said  to  have  been  the  in- 
ventor of  this  artificial  mode  of  remembrance.*  Cicero  and 
Quintilian  both  speak  of  it  in  terms  of  approbation,  and  I 
suspect,  that  after  all  it  involves  the  only  principle  upon 
which  any  effectual  assistance  can  be  given  to  the  memory. 
It  depends  upon  two  component  parts  of  our  constitution, 
both  of  which  have  considerable  influence  over  us:  viz.  that 
of  association,  and  another  which  has  been  generally  remark- 
ed by  philosophers,  that  things  which  are  addressed  to  the 
sense  of  sight  have  a  more  lasting  impression  upon  the  mind 
than  when  barely  an  object  of  contemplation  to  it,  or  when 
perceived  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  other  senses. 
These  very  considerations  are  alluded  to  by  Cicero  as  the 
ground  of  his  favourable  opinion  about  the  local  memory  of 
the  ancients.  No  doubt  some  slight  advantages  may  be  de- 
rived from  this  expedient,  to  those  whose  duties  require  them 
to  commit  long  speeches  to  memory,  or  follow  in  debates  a 
connected  chain  of  reasoning.     How  much  does  the  eye  aid 

*  The  mauner  in  vrliich  the  local  meinory  of  the  ancients  was  sugg-est- 
ed  to  its  inventor,  Sim'jnides,  the  celebrated  poet,  is  curious,  and  per- 
haps worth  mentioning.  He  was  one  day  dining  with  a  man  of  distinction, 
says  Cicero,  in  Thessaly,  and  during  the  repast,  was  called  out  and  oblig- 
ed to  leave  the  company,  for  a  i'ew  moments,  in  order  to  speak  with  some 
gentlemen  who  had  called  to  see  him.  During  his  absence  the  room  in 
which  he  had  been  dining  fell  in,  and  killed  every  person  belonging  to  the 
party.  It  appeared,  upon  examination,  that  their  bodies  were  so  much  in- 
jured and  altered  by  the  casualty,  that  tho  servant  who  was  commissioned 
to  attt^nd  to  their  funerals,  could  not  recognize  llieir  persons.  In  this  dif- 
ficulty he  appealed  to  Simonides,  who  was  able  to  distinguish  their  fea- 
tures only  by  recollecting  the  places  in  which  they  severally  sat  at  dinner. 
This  circumstance  sug^gested  to  him  the  idea  of  the  assistance  which  the 
memory  mav  derive  from  local  situations. 


532  Of  Memory. 

us  in  the  use  of  our  maps,  in  the  study  of  geography?  And, 
then  again,  in  the  study  of  history,  we  find  the  facts  record- 
ed in  it,  more  deeply  imprinted  on  the  memory  by  connect- 
ing them  by  association  with  the  places, to  which  our  minds 
have  become  familiarized  in  geography.  By  associating, 
therefore,  things  which  we  wish  to  retain  in  memory  with 
those  which  are  familiar,  and  akv^ady  safely  laid  in  that  de- 
pository, and  by  giving  to  abstract  ideas  a  local  habitation 
perceptible  to  the  eye,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  the  pow- 
er of  recollection  may  be  assisted.  For  example,  say  upon 
the  plan  of  the  ancients,  I  wish  to  impress  upon  my  mind 
the  three  divisions  of  Massillon's  sermon  upon  the  causes  of 
infidelity,  ignorance,  vanity  and  vice.  I  imagine  these  di- 
visions to  be  represented  upon  the  three  sides  of  my  room, 
ignorance,  written  upon  the  front  wall,  vanity  upon  the  wall 
on  my  right  hand,  and  vice  upon  the  wall  en  the  left.  There 
can  be  no  doubt,  that  by  this  simple  expedient,  I  have  alrea- 
dy enabled  myself  to  remember  them  better  than  I  could 
have  done  without  it.  But  suppose  in  addition  to  this,  I 
can  imagine  these  ideas  exhibited  upon  these  walls  by  hie- 
roglyphick  symbols,  or  images  bearing  some  distant  analogy 
to  them.  For  instance,  to  represent  ignorance  upon  the 
front  wall,  let  there  be  supposed  the  figure  of  a  goose;  to  re- 
present vanity,  that  of  a  peacock,  said  to  be  a  vain  bird;  to 
represent  vice,  Milton's  figure  of  sin,  as  described  in  his  Pa- 
radise lost.  That  the  subjects  are  of  a  ridiculous  nature,  would 
be  rather  of  advantage  than  disadvantage  in  such  cases.  Con- 
necting these  divisions  with  such  visible  images,  they  now 
become  so  deeply  imprinted  upon  the  mind,  it  is  certain,  I 
never  afterwards  should  forget  them.  This  is  the  sum  and 
substance  of  the  local  memory  of  the  ancients;  and  from  my 
own  experience  I  am  convinced,  that  to  a  certain  extent  it 
may  be  useful.  I  am  unable  to  recollect  the  name  of  a  gen- 
tleman of  my  acquaintance  by  the  name  of  Richmond,  and  of 
a  lady  by  the  name  of  Tunis.     I  remember  that  one  has  the 


Of  Memory.  543 

same  name  as  the  capital  of  the  state  of  Virginia,  and  the 
other  that  of  one  of  the  Barbary  states,  with  which  I  am  fa- 
miliar from  a  knowledge  of  geography,  and  ever  after  I  find 
not  the  least  difficulty  in  calling  them  by  name.  Themisto- 
cles  is  said  to  have  thought  it  an  object  of  desire  to  have 
the  power  of  oblivion,  as  he  remembered  too  much;  and  Mon- 
taigne complains  sadly,  that  his  memory  served  him  for  none 
of  the  ordinary  purposes  of  life.  Both  these  results  are  ea- 
sily accounted  for  in  the  characters  of  these  distinguished 
men,  without  supposing  them  to  have  been  pedantic  or  un- 
candid.  Themistocles,  having  strong  natural  parts,  and 
being  constantly  occupied  in  the  affairs  of  the  Grecian  states, 
found  it  necessary  to  cultivate  great  minuteness  of  recollec- 
tion; even  in  those  matters  which  his  superiority  of  under- 
standing would  otherwise  have  led  him  to  neglect  and  des- 
pise, and  hence  his  memory  became  burthened  with  unimpor- 
tant facts  and  transactions.  Montaigne,  on  the  other  hand, 
being  exclusively  occupied  with  wit  and  fine  writing,  let 
every  ordinary  object  of  attention  pass  by  him  unheeded,  so 
that  even  the  names  of  them  could  not  be  recalled.  "  I  can  do 
nothing,"  says  he,  '•  without  my  memorandum  book;  and  so 
great  is  my  difficulty  in  remembering  proper  names,  that  I 
am  forced  to  call  my  domestick  servants  by  their  offices.  I 
am  ignorant  of  the  greater  part  of  our  coins  in  use;  of  the 
difference  of  one  grain  from  another,  both  in  the  earth  and 
in  the  granary;  what  use  leaven  is  of  in  making  bread,  and 
why  wine  must  stand  some  time  in  the  vat  before  it  fer- 
ments." Father  Mallebranche,  who  animadverts  severely 
upon  the  works  of  Montaigne,  ascribes  these  declarations  to 
affectation  and  pedantry.  *'  Could  he  be  thus  forgetful,"  sayS 
he,  "  et  cependant  avoir  I'esprit  plein  de  nom  des  anciens 
philosophes,  et  dc  Icurs  principes,  des  idees  de  Platon,  des 
atoms  d'Epicures,  du  plein  et  du  vuides  de  Leucippus  et  de 
Democritus,  de  I'eau  de  Thales,  de  I'infinite  de  nature 
d'Anaximandre,  de  I'air  de  Diogenes,  des  nombres  et  de  la 


534  Of  Memory^ 

symmetric  de  Pytagoras,  de  I'infinu  de  Parmenides,  de  I'un 
de  Musaeus,  de  I'eau  et  du  feu  d'Apollodorus,  des  parties 
similaires  d' Anaxagoras,  de  la  discorde  et  de  I'amitic  d'Em- 
pedocles,  du  feu  de  Ileraclite,  &c-"  "  Yet  the  same  au- 
thor," says  professor  Stewart,  "appears  evidently  from  his  wri- 
tings, to  have  had  his  memory  stored  with  an  infinite  variety 
of  apothegms  and  historical  passages,  which  had  struck  his 
imagination;  and  to  have  been  familiarly  acquainted  with  the 
ideas  of  Plato,  the  atoms  of  Epicurus,  the  plenum  and  va- 
cuum of  Leucippus  and  Democritus,  the  water  of  'I  halps,  the 
numbers  of  Pythagoras,  the  infinite  of  Parmenides  and  the 
unity  of  Musseus."  There  is  no  inconsistency  between  the 
account  given  by  Montaigne  of  his  want  of  memory  in  such 
matters,  and  his  capacity  to  recollect  those  important  facts 
and  doctrines,  which  supplied  him  with  the  materials  of  fine 
writing.  The  first  were  altogether  uninteresting,  and  of 
course  would  not  be  sufficiently  impressed  upon  the  mind,  to 
enable  him  afterwards  to  recollect  them.  I  suspect  there  is 
scarcely  any  one  who  devotes  himself  to  abstract  study  and 
close  application  to  literary  pursuits,  who  does  not  often  ex- 
perience a  difficulty  in  recalling  the  names  of  things,  which 
are  most  at  the  command  of  others. 

The  fact  is,  that  even  in  exercising  the  memory  a  good 
judgment  is  necessary,  in  order  to  direct  it  in  the  most  use- 
ful channels.  We  should  select  those  ideas  and  facts, 
which  are  the  most  important,  and  endeavour  to  impress 
them  upon  our  mind,  and  not  deposit  in  this  store-house, 
without  discrimination,  all  kinds  of  trash.  Of  what  advan- 
tage can  it  be  supposed  to  be  to  any  man  to  recollect  in  con- 
nection thousands  of  strange  and  unconnected  names  and 
dates,  if  his  mind  does  not  faithfully  retain  fine  sentiments, 
wise  maxims,  and  principles  of  science?  Most  of  those 
methods  of  forming  an  artificial  memory,  which  have  been 
proposed,  are  rather  calculated  to  supply  us  with  that  kind 
of  materials,  which  would   nourish  a  frivolous  vanity,  and 


Of  Memory,  5B5 

ostentation  of  learning,  rather  than  the  solid  knowledge 
which  forms  the  understanding  to  greatness  and  virtue. 
All  those  memories  which  have  distinguished  greatly  their 
possessors,  and  been  the  means  of  accomplishing  any  useful 
purposes,  have  become  such  rather  by  their  native  force,  and 
habitual  and  vigorous  exertion,  than  by  any  adventitious  aid. 
Continued  and  strenuous  exertion,  therefore,  together  with 
the  habitual  use  of  the  pen,  in  recording  important  matters 
which  occur  to  us  in  reading  and  study,  are  the  most  effec- 
tual aids  which  we  can  afford  to  the  native  power  of  memo- 
ry. For  this  purpose  we  cannot  adopt  a  better  expedient 
than  that  of  having  a  common-place-book,  such  as  that 
recommended  by  Mr.  Locke,  in  which  to  insert  sentiments, 
maxims,  and  passages  from  the  writers  we  peruse,  or  such 
as  shall  occasionally  occur  to  our  own  minds,  which  are 
jvorthy  of  preservation.  But  probably  the  worst  of  all  ex- 
pedients, by  which  to  impress  things  upon  the  memory,  is  to 
put  them  into  doggerel  verse.  The  slight  share  of  infor- 
mation which  we  obtain  in  this  manner,  above  what 
might  be  as  well  attained  without  it,  is  a  wretched  compen- 
sation to  us  for  the  injury  done  to  our  sense  of  harmony  in 
poetic  numbers,  and  the  vitiation  of  our  taste. 

We  conclude  this  part  of  our  subject  with  this  single  ob- 
servation. A  disease  sometimes  obliterates  from  the  mind 
all  past  events,  or  in  other  words  utterly  destroys  our  power 
of  recollecting  any  thing  past;  and  at  other  times,  after  des- 
troying our  recollection  for  the  time,  upon  the  recovery  of 
health  this  power  is  renewed,  and  we  can  even  recollect 
what  we  could  not  before  our  illness.  Must  not  all  these 
effects  be  referred  to  the  action  of  disease  upon  those  cor- 
poreal organs,  made  use  of  in  memory  and  recollection?  Is 
not  the  mind  always  the  same  principle? 

It  remains  for  us  barely  to  state,  and  refute  the  objections 
which  have  been  brought  by  Dr,  Reid  against  the  system  of 
Mr.  Locke,  upon  this  point.      In  chap.   7,  essay   3rd,  upoa 


536  Of  Memory. 

the  Intellectual  and  Active  powers,  he  says;  "  The  com* 
mon  theory  of  ideas,  that  is,  of  images  in  the  brain,  or  in 
the  mind,  of  all  the  objects  of  thought,  has  been  very  gen- 
erally applied  to  account  for  the  faculties  of  memory  and 
imagination,  as  well  as  that  of  perception  by  the  senses. 
Mr.  Locke,  and  those  who  have  followed  him,  speaks  with 
more  reserve  than  the  ancients,  and  only  incidentally  of  im- 
pressions on  the  brain,  as  the  cause  of  memory,  and  imputes 
it  rather  to  our  retaining  in  our  minds,  the  ideas  got  either 
by  sensation,  or  reflection."  Here  we  see  that  Mr.  Locke, 
after  having  been  before  accused  of  the  heresy  of  attempting 
to  explain  how  we  perceive,  is  made  to  undertake  the  task  of 
accounting  for  the  act  of  memory.  Both  these  important 
operations  of  the  mind,  we  are  told,  are  ascribed  by  him  to 
impressions  on  the  brain,  or  the  introduction  of  images  into 
the  mind,  of  all  the  objects  of  thought.  Now,  is  there  any 
one  so  simple  as  to  imagine  that  this  accusation  is  well 
founded?  Has  Mr.  Locke  been  so  devoid  of  a  just  concep- 
tion of  the  narrow  limits  of  the  human  understanding,  as  to 
make  the  bold  attempt  to  explain  in  what  manner  we  can 
remember  any  thing?  Look  at  the  account  which  he  gives 
of  memory,  and  see  if  there  be  contained  in  it  any  thing 
about  images  in  the  mind,  or  impressions  upon  the  brain. 
*'  The  other  way  of  retention,  is  the  power  to  revive  again 
in  our  minds  those  ideas,  which  after  imprinting,  have  dis- 
appeared, or  have  been,  as  it  were,  laid  out  of  sight,  and 
thus  we  do  when  we  conceive  heat  or  light,  the  object  being 
removed;  this  is  memorv,  which  is,  as  it  were,  the  store- 
house of  our  ideas.  For  the  narrow  mind  of  man  not  being 
capable  of  having  many  ideas  under  view  and  consideration 
at  once,  it  was  necessary  to  have  a  repository  to  lay  up 
those  ideas,  which  at  another  time  it  might  have  use  of. 
But  our  ideas  being  nothing  but  actual  perceptions  in  the 
mind,  which  cease  to  be  any  thing  when  there  is  no  percep- 
tion of  them,  this  laying  up  of  our  ideas  in  the  repository  of 


Of  Memory.  537 

the  memory,  signifies  no  more  but  this,  that  the  mind  has  a 
power  in  many  cases,  to  revive  perceptions  which  it  has 
once  had,  with  this  additional  perception  annexed  to  them, 
that  it  has  had  them  before.  And  in  this  sense  it  is  that 
our  ideas  are  said  to  be  in  our  memories,  when,  indeed, 
they  are  actually  no  where;  but  only  there  is  an  ability 
in  the  mind,  when  it  will,  to  revive  them  again,  and  as 
it  were  paint  them  anew  on  itself,  though  some  with  more, 
and  some  with  less  difficulty,  some  more  lively,  and 
others  more  obscurely."  Could  any  one  who  was  wri- 
ting with  full  intent  to  oppose  what  has  been  called  the 
ideal  theory,  have  expressed  himself  with  more  precision 
and  accuracy  on  this  subject?  It  is  somewhat  singular,  that 
Dr.  Reid  never  discovered  in  such  passages  as  these,  some 
reasons  to  doubt  whether  he  had  not  misapprehended  the 
doctrine  of  Mr.  Locke.  "  Our  ideas  are  nothing  but  actual 
perceptions  in  the  mind,  which  cease  to  be  any  thing  when 
there  is  no  perception  of  them,  for  what  is  the  same  thing, 
when  we  are  not  conscious  of  them):  and  in  this  sense  it  is 
that  our  ideas  are  said  to  be  in  our  memories,  when,  indeed, 
they  are  actually  no  where."  Does  this  language  look  like 
the  doctrine,  that  in  perception,  images  of  things  are  convey- 
ed into  the  mind  and  there  deposited,  until  by  memory  they 
are  called  out  again  to  become  the  objects  of  contemplation? 
But  when  an  author  has  once  conceived  in  his  head  a  new 
system,  he  listens  to  nothing  that  militates  against  it,  while 
he  seizes  with  avidity  every  shadow  of  evidence  that  gives 
it  support.  But  a  small  share  of  philosophical  candour,  we 
think,  would  have  led  Dr.  Reid  to  spare  the  criticisms  upon 
the  passage  of  Mr.  Locke  before  quoted,  which  we  shall 
now  state,  and  endeavour  to  expose. 

"  In  this  account  of  memory,  (says  Dr.  Reid,  in  his  es- 
say upon  memory,  to  which  we  have  just  referred,)  the  re- 
peated use  of  the  phrase,  as  it  were,  leads  one  to  judge  that 
it  is  partly  figurative."    Could  any  one  doubt  that  is  meta- 

3  Y 


538  Of  Memory^ 

phorical,  when  the  author  himself  expressly  tells  us  so,  even 
if  he  had  omitted  that  small  expressive  phrase,  as  it  were? 
When  he  talks  of  our  ideas  being  kept  for  some  time  actual- 
ly in  view,  being  imprinted  on  the  mind  and  revived  agam, 
disappearing  and  being  laid  out  of  sight,  deposited  in  a 
store-house,  lest  this  figurative  mode  of  expression  should 
mislead  his  reader,  he  informs  him  distinctly  that  in  percep- 
tion thoughts  enter  the  mind,  and  by  the  power  of  memory 
are  again  recalled,  although  they  are  themselves  actually  no 
where  when  not  in  the  mind.  Could  any  language  be  more 
intelligible? 

Again,     Dr.  Reid  proceeds.     "  But  we  are  told,  that  this 
laying  up  of  our  ideas  in  the  depository  of  the  memory  sig- 
nifies no  more  but  this,  that  the  mind  has  a  power  to  revive 
perceptions  which  it  once  had,  with  this   additional  percep- 
tion annexed  to  them,  that  it  has  had  them  before."     But  it 
seems  to  me  as  difficult  to  revive  things  that  have  ceased  to 
be  any  thing,  as  to  lay  them  up  in  a  repository,  or  to  bring 
them  out   of  it."     But   Mr.   Locke   is  not  speaking  of  the 
difficulty  in  the  case.     He  is  only  informing  us  of  the  opera- 
tions of  nature,  all  whose  departments  are  under  the  control 
of  that  Being,  by  whose  power  all  things  which  are  not  im- 
possible, are  effected  with  a  like  facility.     The   Dr.  contin- 
ues.    "  When  a  thing  is  once  annihilated,  the  same   thing 
cannot  be  again  produced,  though  another  thing  similar  to  it 
may."     No?     Could  not  the  Supreme  Being  annihilate  that 
clod  beneath  our  feet,  and  in  one  hour  restore  it  again?  And 
would  it  not,  if  thus  composed  of  all  its  atoms  be  the  same 
clod?     We   distinguish  different  tastes.     We    call  one  the 
taste  of  the  orange,  another  that  of  the  pine,  and  a  third  that 
of  the  lemon.    Now,  after  eating  an  orange,  if  we  do  not  see 
another  for  some  months   after,  the  taste  of  that  fruit  is  to 
us  for  that  time  annihilated.     But  when  we   obtain  posses- 
sion of  another,  should  we  not  justly  say  that  the  same  taste 
was  again  revived  within  us?     "  But"  says,  Dr.  Reid,  "  Mr. 


Of  Memory,  539 

Locke,  in  another  place,  acknowledges  that  the  same  thing 
cannot  have  two  beginnings  of  existence:  and  that  things 
which  have  different  beginnings  are  not  the  same  but  di- 
verse." But  Mr.  Locke  does  not  allege,  that  the  beginning 
of  the  idea  was  when  it  was  revived  by  memory.  On  the 
contrary  he  maintains,  that  memory  can  give  rise  to  no  new 
idea;  but  that  all  the  simple  ideas  which  we  have,  must  de- 
rive their  origin  from  sensation  or  consciousness.  The  Dr. 
draws  his  conclusion.  "  From  this  it  follows,  that  an  ability 
to  revive  our  ideas  or  perceptions,  after  they  have  ceased  to 
be,  can  signify  no  more  but  an  ability  to  create  new  ideas  or 
perceptions,  similar  to  those  we  had  before."  Accordingly 
Dr.  Reid's  doctrine  is,  that  memory  is  what  he  calls  an  ori- 
ginal power,  and  implies  an  ability  to  create  new  ideas  and 
perceptions,  similar  to  those  we  had  before.  To  this  repre- 
sentation Mr.  Locke  agrees,  when  it  is  rightly  understood. 
For  Dr.  Reid  allows  that  the  memory  can  give  us  no  idea 
which  wc  never  had  before.  All  the  difference,  therefore, 
between  them  is  this.  The  one  asserts,  that  memory  only 
revives  those  ideas  and  perceptions,  which  we  had  beforej 
the  other,  that  memory  creates  new  ideas  and  perceptions, 
similar  to  those  which  we  had  before.  Both  these  writers 
are  evidently  aiming  at  the  truth,  and  the  latter  might  well 
have  spared  his  strictures  upon  the  principles  of  the  former. 
The  one  has  given  as  just  and  accurate  a  definition  of 
memory  as  the  other. 

Let  us  compare  them  together.  Mr.  Locke,  says,  "  memo- 
ry is  that  power,  by  which  we  revive  perceptions  and  ideas, 
which  we  had  before."  Is  not  this  definition  just  in  many 
cases?  I  retrace  in  my  memory  all  the  proofs  by  which 
Euclid  demonstrates  that  proposition,  that  the  three  angles 
of  every  triangle,  are  equal  to  two  right  angles.  In  this 
case,  do  I  not  by  memory  revive  every  idea  which  enters 
into  the  demonstration?  But  the  definition  does  not  apply 
universally.     I  recollect  the  taste  I  formerly  had  when  eat- 


54©  Of  Memory, 

ing  a  pine-apple,  or  when  drinking  the  Saratoga  water.  In 
this  case,  memory  still  gives  me  a  distinct  idea  of  these 
tastes,  but  cannot  excite  within  me  the  very  tastes  or  percep- 
tions themselves.  Perhaps  it  might  be  admitted  that  it  ex- 
cites perceptions,  similar  or  analogous  to  those  I  once  had. 
Here,  therefore,  Locke's  definition  does  not  strictly  apply. 
Will  Reid's,  however,  answer  the  purpose  better?  By  no 
means.  Would  it  do  to  say,  when  I  remember  the  proofs  of 
the  proposition  in  Euclid  before  mentioned,  the  memory 
created  ideas  similar  to  those  I  once  had,  and  did  not  revive 
the  very  thoughts  themselves?     Surely  not. 

Setting  aside,  then,  all  disposition  to  detect  inaccuracies 
in  the  language  of  philosophers,  we  conceive  that  Mr. 
Locke  upon  this  point  is  sufficiently  clear,  precise  and  satis- 
factory. Every  one  is  sufficiently  aware  of  what  is  meant 
by  this  power,  and  needs  none  of  the  lessons  of  the  schools, 
to  render  it  intelligible  to  him.  The  observations,  with 
which  Dr.  Reid  concludes  his  strictures  upon  Mr.  Locke's 
doctrine  about  memory,  are  not  only  unworthy  of  him,  but  of 
the  tyro  in  metaphysicks.  They  are  these.  "  But  when 
Mr.  Locke  speaks  of  a  power  to  revive  in  the  mind  those 
ideas,  which,  after  imprinting,  have  disappeared,  or  have 
been,  as  it  were,  laid  out  of  sight,  one  would  hardly  know 
this  to  be  memory,  if  he  had  not  told  us.  There  are  other 
things  which  it  seems  to  resemble  at  least  as  much.  I  see 
before  me  the  picture  of  a  friend.  I  shut  my  eyes,  or  turn 
them  another  way,  and  the  picture  disappears,  or  is,  as  it 
were,  laid  out  of  sight.  I  have  power  to  turn  my  eyes  again 
towards  the  picture,  and  immediately  the  perception  is  re- 
vived. But  is  this  memory;  no  surely?  yet  it  answers  the 
definition  as  well  as  memory  itself  can  do."  By  such  a 
flimsy  sophism  as  this,  could  we  suppose  that  the  under- 
standing of  any  one  could  be  imposed  upon?  I  direct  my 
eyes  to  the'  picture  of  my  friend,  and  recognise  his  likeness. 
I  shut  them,  or  turn  them  away,  and  his  likeness  disappears. 


Of  Memory.  541 

A  second  time  I  turn  my  eyes  towards  it,  while  open,  and 
his  likeness  is  revived.  Is  this  memory,  is  the  question 
asked?  Now,  could  we  imagine  that  this  question  was  put 
by  a  philosopher?  When  1  turn  my  eyes  to  the  picture  of 
my  friend,  is  it  a  power  of  my  mind  alone  which  gives  me 
a  perception  of  his  likeness,  or  is  it  by  means  of  the  rays  of 
light  passing  from  the  picture,  and  forming  an  image  upon 
the  retina?  The  perception  of  the  picture  is  an  involuntary 
act,  recollection  a  voluntary  one.  Perception,  in  both  instan- 
ces mentioned  by  Dr.  Reid,  is  occasioned  by  rays  of  lightj 
memory  is  an  exertion  of  a  power  inherent  in  th6  mind. 

"  I  have  a  power,"  says  the  Dr.  "  to  turn  my  eyes  again  to- 
wards the  picture,  and  immediately  the  perception  is  re- 
vived. Is  this  memory?"  But  we  may  ask  the  Dr.  if  the 
power  of  turning  our  head  towards  the  picture  revives  the 
perception?  Could  that  power  revive  it,  if  the  picture  in  the 
mean  time  had  been  removed?  The  fallacy  of  his  argument 
is  too  glaring  to  escape  the  detection  of  the  least  discerning. 
The  reader  will  perceive  in  this  case  a  willingness  to  resort 
to  any  unfair  expedient  to  bring  Locke's  doctrine  into  dis- 
repute. 


CHAPTER  Xlf. 


Of  Conception. 

The  term  conception,  which  implies  one  of  the  modes  of 
thinkiog,  has  no  peculiar  philosophical  import;  and,  of  con- 
sequence, it  is  extremely   difficult,  nicely  to   mark  the  dis- 
tinction between  it  and  many  other  terms,  which  are  nearly 
synonimous  with  it.     It  is  nearly  equivalent  to  the  expres- 
sions, imagination,  remembrance,  simple   apprehension,  or 
forming  an  idea  of  a  thing.  Sometimes  it  expresses  the  same 
shade  of  thought  with  one   of  these  terms,   and,  at  other 
times,  with  another.   It  denotes  the  exercise  of  no  new  power 
of  the  mind,  which  could  not  be  designated  without  the  use 
of  it;  but  still  its  use  could  not  be  advantageously  dispensed 
with,  as  it  serves  to  give  copiousness,  expressiveness,  and  har- 
mony to  our  language.  "  By  conception,"  says  professor  Stew- 
art, "  I  mean  that  power  of  the  mind,  which  enables  us  to 
form  a  notion  of  an  absent  object  of  perception,  or  of  a  sen- 
sation which  it  has  formerly  felt."    Is  not  the  office  here  at- 
tributed to  conception,  as  a  distinct  power  of  the   mind,  al- 
ways performed  by  memory?     What,  but  memory,  is  that 
power  of  the  mind,  which  enables  us  to  form  a  notion  of  an 
absent  object  of  perception,  or  of  a  sensation,  which  we  have 
experienced  before?  Conception,  and  idea  or  thought,  either 
simple  or  complex,  are  terms  as  nearly  synonimous,  perhaps, 
as  any  two  which  are  to  be  found  in  our  language.  Like  all 
other  words,  however,  which  are  introduced  into  vulgar  use, 
it  is  made  to  express  a  great  variety  of  meanings.  When  we 


544  Of  Conception, 

say  of  the  place  of  our  nativity,  which,  perhaps,  for  many 
years  we  have  not  seen,  that  we  lf»ve  a  distinct  conception 
of  it,  what  can  we  mean,  but  that  by  the  power  of  recollec- 
tion, we  can  retrace  the  scene  which  was  there  once  present- 
ed to  view,  and,  as  it  were,  paint  those  objects   anew,  al- 
though with  a  degradation  of  colouring,  to  our  mental  eye? 
And  what  is  this  process,  but  forming  a  new  complex  idea 
of  the  place  of  our  nativity,  by  the  power  of  memory?  When 
we  assert,  that  we  can  form  no  adequate  conceptions  of  the 
phenomena  displayed  at  the  poles  of  the  earth,  until  naviga- 
tors shall  reach  them,  what  do  we  mean,  but  that  we  cannot 
assemble  together  that  train  of  ideas,    which   would  be  ex- 
cited by  the  appearances  of  the   earth  and   heavens  in  the 
polar  regions,  until  actual  experience  has  produced  them  in 
our  minds?  The  conspirator  is  accused  of  conceiving  a  de- 
sign to  overturn   the   government,  and   here    conception  is 
made  to  include  a  determination  of  the  will,  as  well  as  pic- 
turing in  his  mind  a  scheme  of  treason;  but  in  all  these  cases, 
as  well  as  numberless   others,  with  which  any  dictionary  of 
our  language  may  supply  us,  it  will  be  invariably  perceived, 
that  the  term  conception,  implies  the  exercise  of  no  new  and 
distinct  power  of  the  mind.     "  It  may  be  observed,"  says 
Dr.  Reid,  "  in  his   article   upon  simple   apprehension,  that 
conception  enters  as  an  ingredient  in  every  operation  of  the 
mind.     Our  senses  cannot  give  us  the  belief  of  any  object, 
without  giving  some  conception  of  it  at  the  same  time.  No 
man  can  either  remember  or  reason  about  things,  of  which 
he  hath  no  conception.     When  we  will  to  exert  any  of  our 
active  powers,  there  must  be  some   conception  of  what  we 
will  to  do.     There  can  be  no  desire  or  aversion,  love  or  ha- 
tred, without   some  conception  of  the  object.     We  cannot 
feel  pain  without  conceiving  it,  though  we  can  conceive  it 
without  feeling  it."     This  is  all  strictly  true,  and   what  no 
one  can  hesitate  to  admit.     But  in  all  these  cases,  can  there 
be  discerned  the  slightest  shade  of  distinction,  between  con- 


Of  Conception.  545 

eeption,  and  thought  or  idea,  and  conceiving,  and  forming 
a  thought  or  idea  of  any  thing?  Thinking  is  that  act  of 
the  mind,  which  enters  as  an  indispensable  ingredient  into 
all  its  operations.  Take  the  passage  of  the  Dr's.  work  above 
referred  to,  and  for  the  word  conception,  substitute  thought 
or  idea,  and  see  whether  the  same  sentiments  are  not  most 
precisely  expressed.  "  Our  senses  cannot  give  us  the  belief 
of  any  object,  without  giving  us  some  idea  of  it  at  the  same 
time.  No  man  can  either  remember  or  reason  about  things, 
of  which  he  hath  no  idea,"  And  so  of  the  remaining  sen- 
tences. Now  since  it  appears  evident,  that  the  term  con- 
ception implies  the  exercise  of  no  new  power  of  the  mind, 
and  with  some  slight  shades  of  difference,  arising  out  of  its 
ordinary  and  vulgar  use,  is  exactly  equivalent  to  the  expres- 
sions forming  a  thought  or  idea  of  any  object,  why  should 
Dr.  Reid  entertain  his  readers  with  a  long  and  elaborate 
disquisition  about  it,  treating  it  as  a  subject  entirely  distinct 
from  others,  and  enter  into  a  learned  recital  of  the  errors, 
into  which  all  previous  philosophers  had  fallen  in  their  se- 
veral accounts  of  conception?  Have  the  philosophers  broach- 
ed any  theory  about  conception,  distinct  from  the  theory  of 
ideas,  upon  which  he  had  before  so  largely  descanted?  Is 
not  philosophy  rather  injured  than  profited,  by  such  confus- 
ed and  cloudy  dissertations? 

But  professor  Stewart  endeavours  to  relieve  the  Dr.  from 
this  charge,  by  discovering  a  peculiar  meaning  of  the  word. 
"  Conception,"  says  he,  "  is  often  confounded  with  other 
powers.  When  a  painter  makes  a  picture  of  a  friend,  who 
is  absent  or  dead,  he  is  commonly  said  to  paint  from  memo- 
ry; and  the  expression  is  sufficiently  correct  for  common  con- 
versation. But  in  an  analysis  of  the  mind  there  is  ground 
for  a  distinction.  The  power  of  conception,  enables  him  to 
make  the  features  of  his  friend,  an  object  of  thought,  so  as 
to  copy  the  resemblance;  the  power  of  memory  recognises 
these  features  as  a  former  object  of  perception.     Every  act 

3  z 


546  Of  Conception, 

of  memory  includes  an  idea  of  the  past;   conception   implies 
no  idea  of  time  whatever."     No  fallacy  can  be  more  glaring 
than  that  which  is  contained  in  this  statement,  when  the  sub- 
ject is  studied  and  rightly  understood.    '^  The  power  of  con- 
ception," says  the  professor,  "  enables  him  to  make  the  fea- 
tures of  his  friend  an  object  of  thought,  so   as   to   copy  the 
resemblance."     Now.  in  what  manner  can  he  make  the  fea- 
tures of  his  friend  an  object  of  thought,  but   by  recollecting 
what  he  had  formerly  known  of  them,  or  in  other  words  re- 
calling the  perceptions  he,  then,  had  of  them?     Is  it  not  the 
office  of  that  act  of  memory  denominated  recollection,  to  place 
before  the  view  of  the  mind  all  those  objects  which  it  before 
perceived?     In  the  professor's  view  of  the  matter,  concep- 
tion is  made  the  herald  to  communicate  to  the  mind  intelli- 
gence of  the  past,  while  the  sole   office  of  the  mtmory,  is  to 
determine  that  the  mind  had  previous  knowledge  of  this  intel- 
ligence.     Now,  as  I  humbly  conceive,  this  is  entireU  a  new 
distribution  of  the  powers  of  the  mind,  as  much  unknown  to 
nature  as  to   the   researches   of  philosophy.     Mr.   Locke's 
views  on  this  point  also  are  much  more  just  and   profound. 
In  his  chapter   upon   retention,  he    de'ines   memory,  to  be 
that  power  which  the  mind  has  to  revive  perceptions,  which 
it  has  once  had,  with  this  additional  perception    annexed  to 
them,  that  it  has  had  them    before.      Mr-  Locke,   therefore, 
makes  that  perception,  which  we  have  in  an  act  of  memory, 
that  we  have  received  the  same   intelligence   before,  a  mere 
accompaniment  of  that  act,  while  Mr.  Stewart  would  confine 
the  whole  complex  act  of  memory  to  that  single   perception 
alone.  Upon  his  principles,  in  short,   it   is   not  memorv  but 
conception  which  renews  in  the  mind  all  our  past  knowledge, 
while  to  memory  is  left  the  discovery  that  it  is  past,     'i'hus 
to  alter  at  our  pleasure,  the  meaning  of  terms   long   settled 
and  distinctly  understood,  would  be  introducing  strange  con- 
fusion into  the  philosophy  of  the  mind. 


Of  Conception.  547 

But  why  should  I  spend  time  in  correcting  the  errors  of 
an  author,  who  himself  so  soon  saves  his  readers  from  being 
misled  by  them,  and  after  groping  for  a  time  in  the  dark, 
rises  again  into  light.  In  his  disquisition  upon  the  memory, 
we  find  the  professor,  afttr  defining  it  to  be  always  "  some 
modification  of  that  facultv  v/hich  enables  us  to  treasure  up 
and  preserve  for  future  use  the  knowledge  we  acquire,  pro- 
ceeding to  make  that  distinction  among  its  acts  which  is  as 
old  as  Aristotle,  and  divides  them  into  those  of  remembrance 
and  recollection.  "  This  faculty,  fmemory)"  says  he,  *'  im- 
plies two  things,  a  capacity  of  retaining  knowledge;  and  a 
povver  of  recalling  it  to  our  thoughts  when  we  have  occa- 
sion to  apply  it  to  use.  The  word  memory  is  sometimes 
employed  to  express  the  capacity,  and  sometimes  the  power." 
Here  we  find  the  professor  advanced  into  the  regions  of 
truth;  but  how  does  his  doctrine  here  accord  with  that  wnich 
he  had  held  above?  Let  us  state  the  case  distinctly  that  the 
inconsistency  may  be  evident. 

"  When  a  painter,"  says  he,  "  makes  a  picture  of  a  friend, 
who  is  absent  or  dead,  the  power  of  conception  enables  him 
to  make  the  features  of  his  friend  an  object  of  thought,  so  as 
to  copy  the  resemblance;  the  power  of  memory,  recognises 
these  features  as  a  former  object  qf  perception."  Now,  what 
can  be  meant  by  making  the  features  of  his  friend  an  object 
of  thought,  but  recollecting  them?  And  yet  in  this  case  this 
is  said  to  be  done  by  conception,  while  in  what  he  says  of 
memory,  the  professor  recognises  recollection  as  one  ot  the 
acts  of  memory. 

Again — "  The  power  of  memory  recognises  these  featui'es 
as  a  former  object  of  perception."  Here  memory  is  made 
that  power  which  simply  gives  us  notice  that  the  knowledge 
which  is  recalled  by  us  by  means  of  conception,  was  before 
in  our  possession.  But  when  speaking  of  memory,  he  defines 
it  to  be  that  power  which  treasures  up  and  preserves  for  fu- 
ture use,  the  knowledge  we  acquire;  and  maintains  that  this 


548  Of  Conception, 

faculty  implies  two  things,  a  capacity  of  retaining  knowledge, 
and  a  power  of  recalling  it  to  our  thoughts  when  we  have  oc- 
casion to  apply  it  to  use."  That  is  to  say:  in  the  one  case, 
memory  is  described  as  the  power  which  simply  informs  us 
of  any  part  of  our  knowledge,  when  it  is  revived  by  concep- 
tion, that  we  have  had  it  before;  in  the  other  case,  it  is  made 
the  power  both  of  retaining  that  knowledge  and  recalling  it 
at  our  pleasure.  Now,  by  conception  only,  we  are  said  to 
recall  our  past  perceptions;  and,  then,  by  recollection  or  me- 
mory. When  are  we  to  have  an  end  of  such  confusion  and 
contradiction!  Could  this  writer  have  expected,  that  in  such 
abstruse  speculations  his  readers  would  lose  all  their  faculties 
of  judging  and  discrimination,  and  receive,  without  exami- 
nation, his  indigested  and  incoherent  views? 

I  pass  by  the  minor  errors  with  which  the  professor's  essay 
upon  Conception  abounds,  as  for  instance,  when  he  maintains, 
"  that  it  may  reasonably  be  doubted,  if  a  person  would  not 
write  a  happier  description  of  an  object  from  the  conception 
than  from  the  actual  perception  of  it;"  and  again,  when  he 
asserts,  that  "  in  the  power  of  conceiving  colours,  there  are 
striking  differences  among  individuals,  and  that,  in  the  great- 
er number  of  instances,  the  supposed  defects  of  sight  in  this 
respect  ought  rather  to  be  ascribed  to  a  defect  in  the  power 
of  conception;  and  again,  "  if  it  were  possible  for  us,  with 
our  eyes  shut,  to  keep  up  for  a  length  of  time  the  concep- 
tion of  any  sensible  object,  we  should,  as  long  as  this  effort 
continued,  believe  that  the  object  was  present  to  our  senses, 
&c.  &c.  and  proceed,  immediately,  to  that  strange  and  absurd 
opinion  advanced  by  him  in  this  section,  that  "  the  exercise 
both  of  conception  and  imagination,  is  always  accompanied 
with  a  belief  that  their  objects  exist.  When  a  painter,  for 
example,  conceives  the  face  and  figure  of  an  absent  friend,  in 
order  to  draw  his  picture,  he  believes,  for  the  moment,  that 
his  friend  is  before  him."  Here,  we  see,  that  that  which  is 
above  the  highest  effect  of  the  histrionic  art,  with  all  its  ap- 


Of  Conception,  549 

paratus  of  actors,  scenery  and  costume,  together  with  every 
other  circumstance  calculated  to  affect  the   imagination,  and 
awake  illusion   of  the  wondering  and  cajjtivated   senses,  is 
ascribed  to   the   ordinary  conceptions  of  men.     If  the   pro- 
fessor's doctrine  Were  true,  and  every  time  we   form  a  con- 
ception of  a  dead  or  absent  friend  we  really  believed  him  to 
be  present,  should  we  not  find  ourselves  as   fatally  haunted 
by  frightful  apparitions  as  was  M.  Nicolai,  the  German  phi- 
losopher before  mentioned,  during  the  diseased  action  of  his 
brain?  Nay,  the  condition  of  ordinary  persons  would  be  in- 
finitely more  deplorable  than  was  his.    For  he,  after  the  first 
discomposure  of  mind  occasioned  by  the  appearance  of  these 
phantoms  subsided,  had  sufficient  philosophic   coolness  and 
fortitude,  not  merely  to   discredit   their  real   existence,   but 
even  to  convert  them  into  an  object  of  curiosity  and  amuse- 
pient.     Here,  although  his  perceptive  powers  were  operated 
upon  in  the  same  manner  as  if  outward  objects   were  really 
present,  and  it  be,  moreover,  a  law  of  nature  that  we  have  an 
invincible  belief  of  the  existence  of  the  things  which  those 
powers  exhibit  to  us;  yet,  from  the  very  outset  of  that  sin- 
gular train  of  delusions,  he  disbelieved  the   evidence   which 
they  gave  him.     Although  he  could  not  avoid  being  discon- 
certed, and  even  agitated  and  alarmed  by  the   singular  ap- 
pearances which  presented  themselves,  yet,  he   never,  for  a 
moment,  believed  them  to  be  real  existences.     Now,  if  in  a 
case  like  this,  the  German  philosopher  did  not  even  believe 
in  the  real  existence  of  those  objects  which  his   very  senses 
seemed  to  display  to  him,  is  it  to  be  credited,  that  any  per- 
sons, but  those  who  are  insane,  asleep,  or  in   some  way  dis- 
ordered  in   mind,  would  believe  in  the  existence  and  pre- 
sence of  the  things  which  they  barely  conceived?   As  in  per- 
ception there  always  accompanies  the  mind  during  its   wak- 
ing hours,  a  conviction  that  the   things  perceived   have    real 
existence,  so  in  imagination  or  conception  there  as  invariably 
attends  it  a  consciousness,  that  these  are  merely  its  own  acts, 


550  Of  Conception, 

which  do  not  at  all  imply  the  present  being  or  existence  of 

the  things. 

We  may,  therefore,  safely  leave  it  to  every  judicious  and 
reflecting  man  to  decide  from  his  own  experience  and  con- 
sciousness, whether  he  ever  in  a  sound  state  of  mind,  sup- 
poses the  objects  of  his  conception  and  imagination,  to  be 
immediately  present. 

We  hear  of  no  one,  however  sharp  may  he  the  *'  hungry 
edge  of  appetite,"  attempting  to  ■•'  cloy  it"  by  catching  at  the 
"  feast  which  he  has  imagined,"  or  aiming  to  extinguish  the 
"  fire  in  his  hand,"  by  casting  it  upon  the  "  frosty  Cauca- 
sus," which  he  has  only  thought  upon.  One  of  the  great 
distinctions  between  sleeping  and  waking  men,  between  mad- 
men and  the  sane,  seems  to  be  the  power  of  discerning  the 
difference  in  all  cases  between  what  Mr.  Locke  denominates 
their  primary  and  secondary  perceptions.  Children  and  su- 
perstitious persons,  indeed,  sometimes  mistake  the  phantoms 
which  their  fears  have  conjured  up  for  realities,  and  believe 
themselves  haunted  by  apparitions  that  have  no  real  subsist- 
ence, but  these  are  phenomena  which  are  to  be  explained 
from  the  operation  of  other  principles  of  the  human  consti- 
tution, and  are  very  different  from  their  ordinary  thoughts 
and  conceptions.  Such  persons  are  no  more  inclined  to  be- 
lieve that  their  ordinary  conceptions  have  objects  that  are 
immediately  present  with  them,  than  the  philosopher  of  most 
sober  reflection  and  phlegmatic  temperament.  The  idle  phan- 
toms, just  mentioned,  are  the  product  of  a  timid  imagination 
operating  upon  ignorance  and  credulity.  Strong  passions, 
as  those  of  fear,resentment,love,  revenge,  and  jealousy,  throw 
the  mind  into  tumult  and  wild  disorder,  and  if  under  such 
influences  it  should  in  some  cases,  mistake  its  fancies  for 
realities,  it  is  not  extraordinary:  nothing  can  be  more  natural, 
than  that  IMacbeth,  during  the  perturbed  state  of  his  mind, 
should  seem  to  see  a  dagger  in  the  air;  but  from  such  in- 
stances we  are  not  to  expect  to  draw  just  conclusions  about 


Of  Conception.  551 

the  ordinary  and  cooler  operations  of  the  mind.  We  might 
as  well  maintain,  that  because  the  child  or  ignorant  person, 
under  the  influence  of  fear,  believes  that  he  saw  a  ghost  or 
hobgoblin,  all  our  conceptions  are  made  up  of  such  trum- 
pery of  superstition. 

The  professor  endeavours  to  corroborate  his  singular  opi- 
nion upon  this  subject  by  some  observations  of  Dr.  Reid,  al- 
though, in  truth,  they  have  no  relation  to  the  point.  "  In  con- 
sidering those  sudden  bursts  of  passion,"  says  Mr.  Stewart, 
"whichleadusto  wreak  our  vengeance  upon  inanimate  objects, 
Dr.  Reid  endeavours  to  show,  that  we  have  in  such  cases,  a 
momentary  belief  that  the  object  is  alive.  "  I  confess,"  says  he, 
"  it  seems  to  me  impossible  that  there  should  be  resentment 
against  a  thing  which,  at  that  very  moment,  is  considered  as 
inanimate;  and  consequentlv  incapable  of  intending  hurt,  or 
of  being  punished.  There,  must,  therefore,  I  conceive  be 
some  momentary  notion  or  conception,  that  the  object  of  our 
resentment  is  capable  of  punishment."  In  another  passage, 
the  same  author  remarks,  "  that  men  may  be  governed  in 
their  practice  by  a  belief  which,  in  speculation,  they  reject.  I 
knew  a  man,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  ''  who  was  as  much  convinced 
as  any  man  of  the  folly  of  the  popular  belief  of  apparitions 
in  the  dark;  yet  he  could  not  sleep  in  a  room  alone,  nor  go 
alone  into  a  room  in  the  dark.  Can  it  be  said  that  his  fear 
did  not  imply  a  belief  of  danger?  This  is  impossible.  Yet 
his  philosophy  convinced  him,  that  he  was  no  more  in  dan- 
ger in  the  dark  when  alone  than  with  company.  Here  an 
unreasonable  belief,  which  was  merely  a  prejudice  of  the 
nursery,  stuck  so  fast  as  to  govern  his  conduct,  in  opposition 
to  his  speculative  belief  as  a  philosopher  and  man  of  sense. 
There  are  few  persons  who  can  look  down  from  the  battle- 
ments of  a  high  to^yer  without  fear;  vvhile  their  reason  con- 
vinces them  that  tiicy  are  in  no  more  dangei'  than  when  stand- 
ing upon  the  ground."  These  are  the  passages  of  Dr.  Ried's 
works,  which  the   professor   alleges   in   confirmation  of  his 


KT  Ucftef  of  liK  pi<.i*«cjt  of  dK  cbfcct  oooonved  or 
it  «a  Rad%  be  «» thM  1m  Ims  Int  wide  of 
AM  Ike  chttges  of  plnooMfi  ■cottootd  by  Dr, 
Siead,  «re  wulf  Asaooct  freai  «iK»e  of  coocepooo  aadi 

ike  professor  saivK  «o  redoce 
Bk  jUm^  dK  docnioc  of  Dr  R«id  mds  ia  w» 
to  R&eve  dK  afiwao  of  die  jwolessor  imm  daft 
;  absKKi&T«  wUck  iolegUe  cftoBvcnss  k  saaaped  vipoo 
il,TeckisiK9eifbf  ooaMaas  6«e  froo  enor.  Wkeo  dv 
ckU,  far  enii^le,  or  faofek  biM^  SBcikcs,  m  Ksai^^ 
SKSK  or  inoiaaae  ob^eot  vkkk  kas  kort  lum,  xs  it  be  cno- 
ckided  doK  ke  R9%  kefievcs  k  ID  be  seosiile^  Md  capdOe  of 
noeiwkig  kjozv  or  paoskMeoi?  'Sf  oo  ■moos.  He  coooeives 
of  kg  far  <fo»BMl,kwiff.H^oshf  kig  puwiessfd  of  sffo^awlity, 
of  kvorr^boske  doesootcTeaforoniosanwt. 
■ctMO  ofatMBS  in  sock 
,aMdbdie%ui§,  vkkk, 
paxfaooe,  sktMid  be  stxicdf 
r.     lo  Ae 

are  m  dK  kafak  of  saying,  dot 
icdfy  befiev^  dK  object  or  soeoe  to  be  befaie  os^vluck 

m^-^     ^^^_j    Ji  i_|  iHii  il    iac'    ^^»    rm^^tw    ^^1,1-    ^^(wv    d^^ 

of  oafavkie,or  esUbked  faj'  dK 
i  of  Moooer,  ood  dkb  HMidc 
be  saKckadr  fvecise  aoHl  accuiJir  far  par> 
of  do9f  kieRXMKsc;faaftsarek',  it  ts  aot,  akhuogb  po- 
ly I«oicssar  Stewt,  stncthr  sid  plufaso- 
No  flknaoo  of  d^  liad  cao  ever  be  irader- 
ed  so  perfect,  dot  we  xaB^  be£cve  dK  obiect  to  be  jatJtuuL 

to  toe  passnos  aoa  vma^gmmMm, 

k.  Wcskdifioddixs 

to  be  tiwe,  wfaeo  wc  cat  okcly  to  aoahpzc  oerfed- 

'  tRHsported  wiosjp'kovcbecoaft  me  tuoe,a&d 

\iy  Ac  toHnSt  ood  'It*  11*1^*1  of  cyor  <  lotmiofcs. 


OfCmeepiiitiu  SSi 


Aad  0ae  xuac  dbmamtaan  appBes  id  Ae  OHMt  inAed  re- 
frmrutMiam  oi  dui  **  wdl-tnod  ua^^  even  if^Jdhnu^s 
learned  sock  be  on^  or  snreetest  Sbafc^eant,  Lucy's  cliild,  war- 
Ue  Ims  natvre  w€>od  note*  wSldJ*  £ven  in  die  tug^BcatwrsMi^ht 
•ntnes  of  txagedf  ,  wIku  tfae  imiiafwn  ^^ppmndbes  ne^wesc  t» 
ferfeeiMm,  ^K:  coaaaouaaeaa  uerer  daexta  Ae  heart  dial:  k  Is 
afetion,*  It  is  dm  inward  conaciousne»  wfuch  at  dbe  same 
tine  dnt  ibe  heart  aiiandaas  iinctf  to  j^irie^  and  poors  oat  as 
tears  iss  virtooces  senribifiiaea,  so  softens  and  asaJOJgyj  oar 
sorrows,  as  to  prevent  dieoi  from  ren£i^  andoyerwhrhning 
die  basoai,and  renders  die  indalgBnce  of  cmodopa,  dhns  nu- 
tated, abogedier  ddS^htfiiL  If  dhey  could  he  conceited 
to  be  com^et^  real,  oar  psdns  in  die  mdidgence  of  sodk 
^mpadues,  wonU  become  foo  aiiarp  to  be  endmedL  We 
shook!  Hr  from  such  nnmilf  gated  angoBiaiL.  Who  woold  craod 
die  dieatre,  evemng  after  erenini^  to  see  a  re:d  (MtadtOf 
front  die  mfnthsfnt  ol  a  fiorioas  je:doasf^  pot  his  Pesdemona 
to  deadk,  m*  witness  die  toochii^  madness  of  C^Acfia,  whidk 
woold  OKdke  everj  fibre  ai  die  heart,  sibraie  widi  a^sm^^ 
or  weep  atdbe  ezpirii^  angnish  of  a  Hamlet  or  a  Cato?  The 
people  majr,  fix*  a  frw  instanrys,,  be  attracted  bf  cnriositr  to 
see  the  last  «^ing  alrugj^es  of  die  wretch  who  is  mmipmned 
to  death,  and  in  die  d^rs  of  Greece  and  RsMne,  or  those  of 
tibs  and  ioamanents,  in  later  periods,  Haew  wa^it  derive  a 
degree  of  aolisEictian,  from  wiinessn^  in  their  ampliidifatre 
diosecantests  in  dieir  games  whjditteiminatedfciall^.  Tbeir 
pleasore  arose,  on  these  occasons,  modk  more  front  witnes- 
sing die  feats  of  prowess  and  martial  address  m  tfae  eamtbatr- 
ants,  than  from  their  &tal  termiuauiqng.  Bat  coold  it  ever 
he  made  the  frvoorite  amnsenKst  of  tfae  people  to  see  msm- 

''  '  rmnas;  (be  nrpscaead&tfiaa  «f  a.  tsagesb."  -^a?^  ^mSuam  StEmsttt, 
"IacfcMMr{e<£ge„t&alt«e  hamm  a. geaegai.  amriKHimm  lAstt  tfte  w&aile  aa 

ii liiiifT.. ffimir f  liii IT irnilillii  lliwiimll,. fiffii Id  m»  iiniiiiwl  iiMiiHiwin  wliiih  mil 

!  wwiliiei^  hw  die  JSaJtstsateseff  l&e  '^!age,  ttde  Ihar  ose.  m  SBiaf 

4a 


554  Of  ConceptioJi. 

kind  butcher  each  other  from  the  influence  of  those  malig- 
nant passions,  whose  direful  conflicts  ii  is  the  province  of  the 
drama  to  portray?  Who  would  have  taken  pleisure  in  be- 
ing a  spectator  of  the  scenes  which  passed  in  Rome  in  the 
times  of  proscription  by  Sylla  and  Marius,  or  in  the  civil 
wars  of  Pompey  and  Csesar,  or  in  the  sanguinary  days  of 
Robespierre  and  Marat  during  the  French  revolution?  And 
yet  all  these  transactions  furnish  interesting  matter  for  the 
tragic  muse,  and  when  represented  upon  the  stage  aflord  a 
high  degree  of  enjoyment;  and  such  is  the  mysterious  con- 
stitution of  our  nature,  that  while  the  real  action  of  these 
scenes  would  greatly  shock  and  off"end  us;  in  the  representa- 
tion, the  neater  the  imitation  approaches  to  reality,  the  more 
exquisite  is  the  pleasure  we  derive  from  it.  In  the  exhibi- 
tion of  such  matters  upon  the  stage,  there  appears  to  be  just 
enough  of  similitude  to  facts  M'hich  really  take  place  to  awake 
our  virtuous  sympathies,  and  not  enough  to  torture  and  rend 
the  heart  with  real  agony.  B  sides  the  enjoyment  we  derive 
from  simple  imitation,  which  is  always  agreeable,  we  se- 
cretly applaud  ourselves  for  the  generous  sensibility  of  which 
we  are  conscious,  and  this  consideration  serves  also  to  en- 
hance our  enjoy  iiient  on  such  occasions.  We  look  upon  the 
distortions  of  countenance  in  the  Laocoon,  and  the  leatures 
of  the  dying  Gladiator  with  delight,  as  displaying  the  ex- 
quisite skill  of  the  artist,  and  an  exact  representation  of  na- 
ture; but  who  would  take  pleasure  in  having  such  objects  pre- 
sented to  him  in  real  life?  That,  therefore,  which  would  be 
mobi  shocking,  and  even  revolting  to  the  feelings  in  real  life, 
may  by  the  skill  of  the  poet,  the  orator,  or  artist,  be  convert- 
ed into  a  source  of  the  most  i  efined  satisfaction. 

Mr.  Burke,  in  his  excellent  Treatise  upon  the  Sublime  and 
Beautiful,  in  the  main  agues  with  the  opinions  I  have  ex- 
pressed above.  ''  In  imitated  distresses,"  says  he,  "  the  only 
difference  is  the  pleasure  resulting  from  the  effects  of  imitation; 
for  it  is  never  so  perfect,  but  we  can  perceive  it  is  imitation, 


Oj  Conception.  555 

and  on  that  principle  are  somewhat  pleased  with  it.  And,  in- 
deed, in  some  cases,  we  derive  as  much  or  more  pleasure 
from  that  source,  than  from  the  thing  itself.  But,  then,  I 
imagine,  we  shall  be  much  mistaken,  if  we  attribute  any 
considerable  part  of  our  satisfaction  in  tragedy  to  the  consi- 
deration that  tragedy  is  a  deceit,  and  its  representations  no 
realities.  The  nearer  it  approaches  to  reality,  and  the  fur- 
ther it  removes  us  from  all  idea  of  fiction,  the  more  perfect 
is  its  power.  But  be  its  power  of  what  kind  it  will,  it  never 
approaches  to  what  it  represftnts.  Choose  a  day  on  which 
to  represent  the  most  sublime  and  affecting  tragedy  we  have; 
appoint  the  most  favourite  actors;  spare  no  cost  upon  the 
scenes  and  decorations;  unite  the  greatest  efforts  of  poetry, 
painting,  and  music;  and  when  you  have  collected  your  audi- 
ence, just  at  the  moment  when  tht^ir  minds  are  erect  with 
expectation,  let  it  be  reported  that  a  state  criminal  of  high 
rank  is  on  the  point  of  being  executed  in  the  adjoining 
square;  in  a  moment  the  emptiness  of  the  theatre  would  de- 
monstrate the  comparative  weakness  of  the  imitative  arts, 
and  proclaim  the  triumph  of  the  real  sympathy."  These  doc- 
trines are  just,  and  in  exact  correspondence  to  those  which 
we  have  before  stated.  Hut  in  regard  to  the  last  sentiment 
expressed  by  the  ingenious  author,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that,  on  any  single  occasion,  the  theatre  would  be  deserted, 
however  high  might  be  the  expectations  of  the  audience,  if 
it  were  reported  that  a  criminal  of  high  rank  was  to  be  exe- 
cuted in  the  adjoining  square;  but  in  order  fairly  to  test  the 
matter,  suppose  the  same  scene  should  be  repeated  in  the 
square  adjoining  the  theatre  throughout  a  whole  season, 
would  the  real  or  fictitious  tragedy  be  most  sedulously  at- 
tended? I  think  scarcely  any  one  can  entertain  a  doubt  on 
the  subject.  Men  would  be  attracted  bv  curiosity  as  well  as 
sympathy,  to  witness  a  few  executions  of  state  criminals;  but 
they  would  soon  find  their  appetite  for  such  an  indulgence, 
if  it  be  one,  cloyed  by  repetition,  and  tliese  scenes  become  too 


556  Of  Conception. 

shocking  to  be  endured.  It  is  true,  as  Mr.  Burke  remarks, 
that  a  very  inconsiderable  part  of  the  satisfaction  we  derive 
from  tragedy  is  to  be  attributed  to  the  consideration,  that  it 
is  a  deceit,  and  its  representations  no  realities.  This  is  a 
circumstance  which  is  rather  preparative  to  our  enjoyment, 
and  necessary  to  prevent  a  too  great  excitement  of  our  sym- 
pathetic feelings,  than  an  important  ingredient  in  it.  Our 
pleasure,  in  such  representations,  when  accurately  analyzed, 
may  all,  perhaps,  be  reduced  to  the  effect  of  imitation,  to  the 
enjoyment  which  we  have  from  the  excitement  to  this  degree 
of  our  sympathetic  feelings,  to  a  secret  approbation  of  our  own 
sensibility  to  virtue,  to  a  consciousness  of  fiction  in  all  the 
scenes  depicted,  and  to  the  interest  which  we  naturally  take 
in  the  display  of  fine  writing  and  exalted  sentiments  by  the 
author.  If  any  thing  further  than  what  has  been  already  ad- 
duced were  necessary  to  show,  that  no  audience  ever  com- 
pletely loses  its  consciousness,  that  the  scenes  which  are  ex- 
hibited to  it  are  fictitious,  we  may  give  the  following  argu- 
ment which  appears  to  us  conclusive.  Suppose  an  audience 
listening  to  the  scene  which  is  displayed,  when  Othello,  be- 
coming insane  with  ill-grounded  jealousy,  is  smothering  his 
Desdemona,  and  that  some  celebrated  actor  has  wrought 
them  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  sensibility.  If  they  believed 
it  to  be  real,  would  it  be  possible  for  them  to  wait,  in  silence, 
the  horrid  catastrophe?  Would  they  not  involuntarily  cry 
aloud  with  emotion,  and  undeceive  Othello  about  the  cha- 
racter of  Desdemona,  and  disclose  the  nefarious  plot  of  lago? 
Is  not  the  silence  and  emotion  with  which  they  contemplate 
such  transactions,  a  secret  acknowledgment,  that  they  are 
inwardly  sensible  of  the  whole  deceit,  and,  in  fact,  are  rather 
endeavouring  to  aid  the  poet  and  the  actors,  in  working  them- 
selves up  to  a  state  of  agreeable  illusion,  to  promote  the  in- 
dulgence of  their  virtuous  sensibilities? 

We  are  now  prepared  to  afford  solutions   of  all   the  phe- 
nomena referred  to  by  Dr.  Reid,  without  admitting  the  cor- 


Of  Conception.  557 

rectness  of  his  doctrine,  or  giving  any  countenance  to  the 
strange  and  absurd  theory  of  professor  Stewart, 

In  the  first  place,  when  the  idle  boy  in  a  fit  of  resentment 
strikes  the  stone  which  has  hurt  or  wounded  him,  it  is  not 
because  he  believes  it  to  be  sensible  or  an  object  of  punish- 
ment, but  because  his  passions  have  transferred  to  it  in  his 
conceptions  a  momentary  animation.*  The  difference  be- 
tween this  operation  of  the  mind,  and  that  act  of  the  under- 
standing denominated  belief,  may  be  perceived  in  many  ca- 
ses. When  the  orator  in  his  address  makes  use  of  the  fi- 
gure of  personification,  apostrophe,  or  vision;  he  seems  in 
each  case  to  have  the  object  displayed  before  his  eyes  as 
really  alive,  or  in  the  case  of  vision  as  immediately  passing 
in  his  view}  but  he  does  not  believe  them  to  be  living,  or 
passing  in  his  view.  In  the  instance  of  apostrophe,  when  we 
address  a  person  who  is  absent  or  dead,  will  any  one  main- 
tain that  we  believe  him  to  be  present  and  listening  to  us, 
and  do  not  merely  conceive  of  him  as  doing  so?  All  pheno- 
mena of  this  nature  are  to  be  explained  upon  the  assumption 
of  that  principle  of  our  constitution,  which  inclines  us  to 
conceive  of  all  nature  as  feeling  along  with  ourselves,  and 
partaking  of  all  our  impressions,  ideas,  and  our  whole  state 
of  mind.  The  imagination  and  the  passions  naturally  trans- 
fuse into  every  object  life  and  thought  and  sensibility.  The 
mind  takes  great  delight  in  this  exercise  of  its  powers.  Hence 
in  impassioned  oratory,  and  the  higher  kinds  of  poetry,  ev- 
ery thing  feels,  lives,  hears,  speaks,  or  listens  to  those  who 
address  it.  When  Eve,  at  her  departure  from  Paradise,  is 
made  by  Milton,  to  utter  that  pathetick  valedictory  address, 
which  is  so  natural  and  beautiful,  is  it  to  be  conceived  that 

•  Or,  perhaps,  after  ail,  as  a  very  able  and  intelligent  friend  suggested 
to  me,  the  silly  boy  strikes  the  stoue  in  a  rage,  without  even  having  a 
conception  of  its  sensibility,  only  to  vent  his  passion,  as  a  man  sometimes, 
in  a  fit  of  auger,  will  beat  the  air,  merely  for  his  own  relief  with  absurd 
atnd  ridiculous  jfesticulations. 


558  Of  Conception. 

had  she  made  such  an  address  in  reality,  she  would  have  be- 
lieved that  the  garden  listened  to  her  complaints?  No  one 
can  be  so  little  skilled  in  human  nature  as  to  think  so.  And 
yet  such  language  wotdd  be  perfectly  natural  on  such  an  oc- 
casion, and  might  really  have  been  spoken. 

Again:  what  Dr.  Reid,  adduces  of  the  man,  who,  although 
as  much  convinced  as  any  one  of  the  folly  of  the  popular  su- 
perstition about  apparitions,  yet  could  not  go  into  a  room 
alone  in  the  dark,  or  sleep  in  a  room  alone,  is  easily  expli- 
cable upon  the  same  principles.  "  Can  it  be  said,"  asks  the 
Dr.  "  that  his  fear  did  not  imply  a  belief  of  danger?  Impossi- 
ble?" But  allow  me  to  ask  in  turn,  why  impossible,  that  he 
should  have  been  afraid  without  any  belief  of  danger,  or 
even  when  his  belief  was  most  firm  that  he  was  in  safety? 
Do  the  fears  of  mankind  which  constitute  no  small  part  of 
the  weakness  of  human  nature,  wait  for  the  slow  progress  of 
the  understanding  before  they  produce  their  results?  When 
a  man  looks  down  from  the  battlements  of  a  high  tower,  who 
has  been  unaccustomed  to  such  elevations,  he  is  perfectly 
convinced  that  he  is  safe,  and  yet  does  not  a  sense  of  dan- 
ger give  him  a  sensation  of  dizziness  and  inquietude?  Such 
are  the  strange  inconsistencies  of  our  nature,  that,  although 
philosophy  may  have  taught  us,  and  permanently  fixed  us 
in  a  disbelief  of  all  the  superstitious  tales  of  the  nursery, 
yet  against  our  judgment,  reason,  and  common  sense,  they 
may  have  some  influence  over  us.  It  is  not  in  such  instan- 
ces that  we  have  any  belief  of  danger,  but  because  fear 
operates  upon  the  mind,  and  fear  is  under  very  little  con- 
trol from  reason.  "  Here  an  unreasonable  belief,"  says  Dr. 
Reid,  speaking  of  the  person  beforementioned,  "  which  was 
merely  a  prejudice  of  the  nursery,  stuck  so  fast  as  to  govern 
his  conduct,  in  opposition  to  his  speculative  belief  as  a  phi- 
losopher and  man  of  sense."  Now  could  he  have  two  op- 
posite convictions  at  the  same  time,  that  there  were  no  such 
things  as  apparitions,  and  that  there  were  such  beings  from 


Of  Conception.  559 

which  danger  is  to  be  apprehended?  Can  the  mind  be  said 
to  believe  and  disbelieve  the  same  thing,  at  the  same  time? 
But  there  may  be  a  fear  or  dread  resting  upon  the  mind  of 
evils  which  we  are  firmly  persuaded  can  never  happen.  If 
the  Dr.  had  said,  that  an  unreasonable  dread,  which  was  a 
mere  prejudice  of  the  nursery,  stuck  so  fast  as  to  govern  his 
conduct,  in  opposition  to  his  belief  as  a  philosopher  and  man  of 
sense,  he  would  have  expressed  himself  correctly,  and  with 
philosophical  precision  and  accuracy.  The  case  of  an  optical 
experiment  mentioned  by  professor  Stewart,  who,  I  think,  dis- 
covers admirable  adroitness  in  quoting  examples  that  militate 
against  his  own  systems,  instead  of  furnishing  them  support 
and  confirmation;  will  serve  to  show  the  distmction  between 
our  fear  and  belief,  and  how  the  first  may  influence  the  mind 
in  direct  opposition  to  the  second,  without  supposing  any  thing 
like  a  contrary  belief  in  the  case.  "  In  a  very  ingenious  optical 
deception,"  says  he,  "  which  was  lately  exhibited  in  this  city, 
the  image  of  a  flower  was  presented  to  the  spectator,  and  when 
he  was  about  to  lay  hold  of  it  with  his  hand,  a  stroke  was 
aimed  at  him  with  the  image  of  a  dagger."  In  this  experi- 
ment, although  we  are  perfectly  sure  that  all  is  a  deception, 
and  have  not  the  smallest  idea  of  danger,  who  would  not  in- 
voluntarily draw  back  his  hand  at  the  approach  of  the  dag- 
ger? And  this  would  not  be  done  from  a  momentary  belief 
of  danger,  as  Mr.  Stewart  supposes,  but  from  the  sheer  im- 
pulse of  fear  or  apprehension,  which  outstrips  reason  in  its 
movements,  and  operates  on  many  occasions  against  the  firm- 
est convictions  of  the  understanding. 

I  shall  conclude  this  article  b}^  giving  a  single  case  more 
in  point.  From  the  account  which  is  given  us  of  Mr.  Hume*s 
last  moments  by  his  friend,  Dr.  Adam  Smith,  it  appears,  that 
he  made  himself  merry  concerning  a  future  state,  conver- 
sing with  great  coolness  and  pleasantry  about  Charon  and 
his  boat,  and  the  insufliciency  of  all  those  excuses  which  he 
should  be  able  to  allege  to  that  celebrated  ferryman  for  re- 


560  Of  Conception. 

maining  longer  upon  earth.     From  these  circumstances,  we 
have  reason  to  conclude,  that  both  Mr.  Hume    and  his  friend, 
wished  it  to  be  understood,  that  he  died  with  great  philoso- 
phick  firmness,  and  under   a  full  conviction  or  belief  of  an 
extinction  of  his  being  at   death.     Now  if  this  was  the  firm 
and  sincere  belief  of  Mr.    Hume,  I  would  not  say  that  he 
slill  retained  his  unreasonable  belief  derived   from  the  tales 
of  the  nursery,  which  prevailed  over  his  belief  as  a  philoso- 
pher and  man  of  sense;  but   I  would  most  decidedly  main- 
tain,  that  he  has  failed  in  demonstrating  that  philosophical  for- 
titude and  self-possession,  to  which  he  pretended.    Although 
he  did  not  discover  the  agitation  and  anguish  of  his  illustrious 
friend  and  coadjutor,  Voltaire,  under  similar  circumstances; 
yet,  still  in  spite  of  all  his  studied   efforts   to  conceal  it,  he 
has  displayed  a  deep  dread  and  apprehension  about  the  event 
of  death,  which  he  affected  to  despise.    Death  is  too  solemn 
an  event  to  all  human  beings,  to  become  an   object  of  sport 
and  pleasantry  to  any  man  who  is  in  a  sound  and  natural  state 
of  mind.     The  very  brutes  appear  to   give   up  life  with  re- 
luctance, and  feelings  of  solemnity.     Mr.  Hume's  feelings, 
as  affected  to  be  exhibited,  are  too  artificial  and  unnatural  to 
impose  upon  those  who  have  any   insight   into   the  constitu- 
tion of  human  nature.    His  conduct  on  that  occasion  recalls 
strongly  to  mind,  that  of  the   timid  boy  who  whistles,  sings 
and  makes  merry  as  he   passes   the  churchyard   in  order  to 
keep  up  his  courage,     Mr.  Hume's   fortitude   and   self-pos- 
session would  have  appeared   to   be   genuine,   had  he  acted 
with  at  least  that  gravity  which  became  the  occasion.     As 
the  facts  are  related  to  us,  notvvithstanding  that  artificial  veil 
which  he  has   attempted  to  throw  over  his  emotions,  when 
by  a  close  inspection  we  penetrate  through  it,  and  obtain  access 
to  the  real  state  of  his   mind,  we  find  it  to  be  by  no    means 
an  enviable  one,  or  free  from  solicitude.  Suppose  Mr.  Hume's 
opinions  to  be  well  founded,  and  the  matter  ascertained,  that, 
at  death,  we  shall  all  fall  into  utter  annihilation;  would  not 


Of  Conception.  561 

that  great  event,  under  this  view  of  it, be  soltmn  and  afflic- 
tive? Friends  must  still  be  parted  from,  the  sweet  light 
of  the  sun  must  never  more  visit  our  eyes,  the  sublimities 
and  beauties  of  creation  must  become  effaced  to  us,  the  joys 
of  social  intercourse,  of  the  understanding  and  the  heart, 
must  be  relinquished;  and,  added  to  all  this,  we  must  pass 
through  the  agonies  of  our  expiring  moments,  be  laid  in  the 
silent  grave;  and,  then,  have  this  pleasing  consciousness  of 
being  dissolved  into  the  shades  of  an  eternal  oblivion.  Is 
there  any  one,  in  a  sane  state  of  mind,  who  could  undergo 
such  privations  and  encounter  such  evils,  without  sentiments 
of,  at  least,  seriousness  and  solemnity?  Is  not  he  to  be  re- 
garded as  either  partially  mad,  or  having  a  mind  by  no 
means  at  ease,  although  artificially  wrought  up  to  a  state 
of  indifference  and  levity,  who  shall  dare  to  make  them  a 
subject  of  derision  and  amusement? 

The  intelligent  reader  will  perceive  that  we  have  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  of  our  volume,  without  having  exhausted 
our  subject.  Many  of  the  most  important  powers  of  the 
mind  remain  to  be  treated  of,  and  its  most  interesting  phe- 
nomena to  be  solved.  The  powers  of  abstraction,  composi- 
tion, comparison,  imagination,  reason,  the  will,  the  affections, 
together  with  all  the  social  and  moral  faculties,  will,  on  a 
future  occasion,  we  trust,  should  our  life  and  health  be 
continued,  open  to  us  a  large  and  interesting  field  of  inves- 
tigation. 


FINIS. 


■J 

DATE  DUE                             \ 

r* 

GAYLORD 

fSlNTEDINU    3    A. 

